Letting Go
by Eirian1
Summary: Ronon receives what he believes is a call for help. Will he be able to save himself from ghosts of past and present, and will what's left of the team, caught up in events, be able to avert disaster? Virtual Season 5 Episode 6
1. Act 1

Author's disclaimer: I do not own _Stargate Atlantis_ and its associated characters. MGM does, for which, for the most part, they have my utmost respect. No copyright infringement is intended in writing these stories.

My deepest respect also goes to the talented actors that brought to life the characters we see in _Stargate Atlantis._ My portrayal of the characters here is based on my perception of the work of Joe Flanigan, Jason Momoa, Rachel Luttrell, Paul McGillion, David Hewlett, Amanda Tapping, Robert Picardo, Connor Trinneer and Christopher Heyerdahl. Without these people and those that came before them, there would have been no _Atlantis_ as we know it today.

Other assorted original characters (i.e. those that don't really appear in the show) are my own creation, and they, along with the original material presented here are © Eirian Phillips 2009.

Story is rated for mature readers, according to whatever rating system is adopted these days for Fan Fiction. It changes on a site by site basis… It was so much easier way back when…

There may be other virtual seasons of _SGA_ out there in cyberspace. Some may even be unofficially official. However, as a writer, I don't believe that this should discourage others from having their own ideas about things. Mine are presented here.

I can be reached at Feedback is always welcome and emails are usually answered.

Characters and events are purely fictitious, and any similarity to anyone living, transformed, dead, cloned or in any alternate universe or timeline is entirely coincidental.

Stargate Atlantis

**Letting Go**

The Only Way to Hold On

_"You believe in this fight! You know that they'll eventually find us, no matter where we go. Our only hope is to show them that we're not worth the effort, to go feed on some other planet that won't fight back as hard as we will." _

_Melena - Sateda_

**Previously On Stargate Atlantis:**

Slowly Teyla took hold of Ronon's hands and waited with her head bowed until he shared the gesture with her.

"I will not say goodbye to you, Ronon," she said softly. "Only wish you well until our paths cross again."

"Farewell, Teyla," he answered. "I know you will find him… and when you do—" his voice cracked. "Come back to us."

**

Todd brought her to stand in front of him, close against him, and wrapped his right arm across her belly to rest against her left hip, resting his other hand atop her shoulder, where he almost idly began a gentle stroking of her neck with his thumb.

"You bring a _human _to our bridge?" the Hive Commander said harshly, stepping down from his console and approaching menacingly.

"I will bring my concubine where I wish. After all, our Queen has given her the freedom of the Hive… unless of course…" Todd eased Vega away from him and turned to face the Hive Commander, his expression unyielding. "…you wish to challenge me."

**

Vega held the soft fabric up to her. Granted the bodice would be tight, and would probably only cover the bare minimum, leaving her shoulders and arms bare. The skirt, though shorter at the front than the back, was full and looked as though it would hang in overlapping layers, exposing her legs if she moved, but keeping her covered when she was still. The whole thing was a deep, almost black velveteen fabric.

"Seems like someone's been a good little girl, and has gotten her just rewards," the captive hybrid said mockingly.

"I said I didn't want—"

"—to hear it, yes, I know," he said. "But have you considered what you have to… or were supposed to have done, in order to receive your prize? You think you have the presence of mind to… _lie_ to a Queen?" the hybrid stressed.

**

The man that stepped through the Gate was tall, and dark, and not at all handsome. His face was scarred on the one side, and the story was that one of his former patients had covered him with gasoline and set him on fire. His blue eyes were completely devoid of warmth as he swept his gaze around the Gate Room, and the dark suit that he wore only accentuated the impression of a brooding, crow-like presence.

"Richard Woolsey," he greeted the man, and though he sounded glad, and held out his hand for the requisite handshake, the coldness in his eyes did not change.

"Professor Varnerin," Woolsey said, shaking the man by the hand and gesturing toward the interior of the city. "Welcome to Atlantis."

**

"Romance is a human notion, Alicia Vega," he said softly, "The truth of the matter is that the Queen has sent you to me as a test of our loyalty to her. Should we have… engaged in such activities and then turned from her—"

"—Then we fail the test." she guessed.

"Then _I_ fail the test," he corrected her softly. "Humans have been known to develop affections for their Wraith masters – so it is not entirely unexpected by the Queen."

"And if we don't?"

"If we do not… what?" he asked.

"If we don't… do this thing, then you fail the test again, rejecting her gift and probably so do I for not being… interesting enough of something," she said.

Todd chuckled. "Now you see the predicament."

"What are you laughing at?" she snapped, "this isn't funny."

"You are not uninteresting, Alicia," he answered.

**

Her robes, in swirling blacks and purples, blended with the organic material of the seat, and her dark hair, clasped away from her face, hung almost in ringlets about her shoulders, she had been curled like a huge serpent into the back of her resting place, almost as though she were sleeping, her face turned away from the light. Her eyes were red and bloodshot.

**

"No!" The Elder Queen's voice was whip-like, and the mental echo of it painful even to Todd, at whom it was not directed. The Subordinate-Queen shrank backwards, almost stumbled, and a trickle of blood began to run from her nose.

_=how dare you believe you could deceive me!=_

**

The Queen was hungry… under a geas, an interdiction against feeding more than enough to keep her alive, given to her by a stronger Queen.

***

_"Ronon, you can't run forever."_

_Melena - Sateda_

**Act 1**

As soon as Ronon cleared the event horizon he set off at a run in the direction of the Athosian settlement, where, barely a month before, he had returned Teyla to her people.

The shielding trees hid the full extent of the truth from his eyes, but already he could see a column of dark smoke rising to mar the otherwise clear sky with the tell-tale signs of trouble.

As he broke from the tree line, he skidded to a halt and almost bent double. The air in his lungs deserted him, and intense, nauseating fear rushed in to fill the empty space. In front of him lay the ruins of the settlement, scattered from one side of the clearing to the other. The debris from the broken houses and workshops littered the ground, while the smoking remains of burned-out homes stood as blackened scars in the untidy remains of his friend's home.

Growling he pushed aside the paralysis and began to sprint toward the settlement where, as he drew closer, he could see bodies lying among the devastation.

"Teyla!" he called out frantically as he started to lift the wreckage from one of the people he could see. The woman beneath the debris of the first home he came to was dead, impaled on a split piece of wood that had once been the support beam of the building.

"Teyla!" he called again, more frantically, as his searching only revealed more corpses.

A low moan, so quiet he almost missed it, sent him hurrying toward the sound, where he desperately began throwing broken timbers and burned and ruined canvass aside. A bloodied hand reached for him as he cleared a way to reach the person buried beneath the house.

"Ronon," a broken voice gasped, and Ronon fell to his knees beside the gravely injured Athosian man, to give Halling what aid he could.

"Lie still," he said urgently, but gently. "I'll get you help."

He lifted his hand, meaning to key his headset, but Halling caught his arm.

"They took Teyla," Halling rasped, "Ronon, they—"

"Who?" he asked. "Who took her?"

"Wrai—" Halling's voice became broken by a rattling cough that shook the whole of his body.

"I'll find her," Ronon promised.

"I tried to—"

"Halling, save your strength," he told the Athosian, but Halling shook his head.

"Save her, Ronon, please. I—" he took a huge breath, paling with the effort. "Landed… they landed the Hive. I—"

"Halling, stop, please," Ronon's emotions at the man's struggles were choking him. "I'll find her. Let me get help for—"

A breathy rattle cut off the words he'd been about to say. He looked down at Halling, into the Athosian's open, staring eyes.

"Halling," he whispered sorrowfully, and wondered how he would ever be able to tell Teyla… once he had rescued her from the Wraith.

**

When seen from the viewscreen of the Daedalus, it was all too easy to forget just how big the Hive truly was; to forget that, when they had first discovered it on M3X-667, it had occupied an entire mountain range. Looking at the Hive ship now, from his hidden vantage point at the edge of the tree line, with its Darts flying patrols overhead, and ground patrols that looked like fleas on the landscape next to the Hive, he wondered how, in the name of the Ancestors, he was going to get aboard.

He watched for what seemed, to him, to be hours, becoming more and more frustrated that he was failing Teyla in the delay he had in getting on board the Hive. In his mind he saw a succession of Wraith, each of them abusing his friend, feeding on her bruised and bleeding body. With a growl he pushed aside the dark images and forced himself to settle, to wait for nightfall and to try and formulate a plan for what he might do once he was finally aboard the Wraith Hive.

He didn't imagine it would be easy, nor did he expect to be able to simply walk the corridors of the Hive entirely without detection. There would be inevitable fights, and he quietly relished the opportunity to take out as many of the Wraith as possible. So long as he freed Teyla and gave her a way to escape, he did not care what happened to him.

Dusk fell slowly as he watched and waited, and the patrolling of the Wraith surrounding the Hive began to subside, to pull in almost, as though they were securing their perimeter against some real or imagined danger. As he carefully applied a layer of camouflaging dirt to his face and hands, he could not help but glance upward, searching the skies for the presence of other Hives, or other Darts, he reminded himself, and couldn't help but bring to mind the fact that Michael and his hybrid army fought with Wraith ships, using Wraith technology. He looked at the Darts still flying passes overhead. It wouldn't be the first time he and his fellow Atlanteans had mistaken Michael's forces for those of the Wraith.

_"Incoming!"_

_Ronon's warning shout and the whine that seemed to cut through the paralysis left by the explosion made Sam turn again. From behind the rising cloud of smoke over the compound, a Dart was coming, flying low on a path that would bring it into striking range of the engineers and their excavation within seconds._

_Sam tried to call a warning to Rodney; to stop him from climbing out of the rubble that had been his prison, and was now a refuge, albeit an insecure one, against the coming attack from the Wraith… but the Dart did not open fire._

_Ronon skidded to a halt as the Dart activated its culling beam, that reached into the heart of what was left of the building before, a second later, disengaging as the Dart powered away, taking his friend and team mates with it._

He sighed softly. At least they had gotten McKay back, relatively sound and in one piece. Lorne was another matter… and now that Varnerin had come to Atlantis, Ronon began to worry that the major would not survive until Keller could create some kind of cure for hybridisation. It was not that he necessarily believed that the professor would harm Lorne directly, but he could certainly see Varnerin giving some kind of order that would see Lorne taken to Earth for some kind of intense debriefing – the way the IOA had wanted to do with Teyla.

Teyla…

She of all people had been the one most sympathetic to his plight when first they met, even though he had her bound and a prisoner at the time. It was a part of her personality that he admired even though it was so much the opposite of his own somewhat uncompromising attitude. That's not to say that she didn't have relentlessness of her own. She did, and she was one of the strongest people he knew because of it, but lately her balance had been somewhat overturned. He knew she'd find it again; knew that as soon as she emerged from under Michael's influence she'd be just fine, but until that time he meant to protect her. He had always been protective… a brother to her.

As though his thoughts brought him full circle to the present, he turned his face toward the Hive and cautiously, quietly, began to move on the Wraith ship.

He had to negotiate a steep decline from the edge of the wood toward where the Wraith had landed, watching every placement of his feet with tension in his muscles, ready to strike or flee. At the bottom of the small hill, two Wraith warriors stood sentry, as if they expected attack from that direction. It would be his first test.

Pausing behind a small outcrop of rocks, he slipped two knives from sheaths at his back, taking one into each hand, and hefting them experimentally. He would have no second chances. He would have to take out both Wraith warriors simultaneously, or his rescue attempt would be over before it began, as the warriors would telepathically alert the others on the Hive of the presence of a hostile survivor from the Athosian village. On the other hand, if he could lure the Wraith out of the Hive and into the woods on a wild goose chase for supposed survivors, it might make it easier for him to get inside. Nodding to himself, he quickly made a decision and exchanged one of the knives for his blaster. He wouldn't use it, but felt much better with it in his hand. Then he moved just enough to take aim on one of the two Wraith warriors with the remaining knife.

With all his strength, he launched the deadly blade through the air toward the warrior. It struck true, and the warrior fell. Before he hit the ground, Ronon quickly and quietly moved to a new vantage point, and watched as the second warrior, raising his weapon, moved toward his former position.

Falling back into old, remembered patterns of hunted and hunter, Ronon smiled grimly, before circling around behind the oncoming Wraith, he went to the first to retrieve his knife, and ensure that the warrior he had targeted was dead.

For a man as big as he was, Ronon moved silently – much more silently than the Wraith warrior he could clearly hear stamping around in the undergrowth, now behind Ronon's advanced position. The former runner did not stay in one place for long. Once he ascertained the position of the remaining warrior, he set off toward the Hive once more, at an acute angle to the direction the warrior was taking, and before he had even fully reached the cover of a small knot of bushes he had chosen as his next vantage point, he began fixing the positions of the other Wraith that were guarding the Hive into his mind.

As he watched, a Wraith commander and several warriors came past the sentries at the entrance to the Hive and began to fan out, to search the surrounding woodland. His plan was working. Whoever commanded this Hive, whatever queen or commander was in charge, certainly wanted the Athosians dead or, he thought bleakly, as meals stored in their cocoons.

Taking his time, he crawled from shadow to shadow, approaching the Hive. He wouldn't use the door to enter the landed craft. Rather, he meant to crawl in through one of the weapons' ports. It was a tactic he had used once or twice before, with a good deal of success.

_The air around his patrol was full of the sounds of gunfire, defensive positions exploded beside and behind him, and more and more Darts streamed out of the Hive, heading for the city. If Sateda was to survive much longer, he and his patrol would have to take out the ship._

_"It's too heavily guarded," one of his companions called out. "We'll never get inside."_

_He raised the binoculars, watching in despair as yet another of the loyal Satedan defence patrols was cut down by Wraith warriors that streamed from the ship to fan out and form a defensive line. There had to be a way._

_"There!" he said, and handed the binoculars to the doubting companion, pointing out an area along the hull, far away from the door._

_"Where?" his companion asked, "I don't see anything."_

_"That depression, that groove in the hull," he said._

_"Yes?"_

_"It leads inside. It has to," he said. "Some kind of exhaust port or something."_

_"Could be dangerous." His companion nodded, finally seeing what he meant._

_"What, and walking up to the front door wouldn't be?" he quipped._

He took a long slow blink, banishing the memory. His companion hadn't survived. Insisting on going first, he'd climbed out of the weapons' shaft almost directly into the hands of a Wraith inside the ship. Ronon would have to be careful.

The hull of the ship was still warm from re-entry into the atmosphere, but not intolerably so as he'd feared. It was a testament to how long it had taken him to come even this far.

The stamp of boots reminded him of the need to keep moving; of the Wraith's routine of sending regular patrols around their ship. He flattened himself into the shadows directly beneath the port, barely fitting in the small space, and covered himself with the dirt the Hive's landing had disturbed, to wait until the two sets of feet were long since past. Then without waiting any more, he drew his knife, and holding it between his teeth, pulled himself up into the steeply inclined weapons' tubule.

The tangy, bitter taste of Wraith blood, still on the knife, spurred him on, filling him with the need to coat the metal blade with still more – one Wraith for each scream he imagined coming from Teyla's lips.

He had to brace his legs to either side of the tube to stop himself from sliding back, falling to the ground, and into the hands of the patrolling Wraith. He had forgotten it was quite such a difficult climb, and very soon his legs and fingers ached from the effort of holding him up; propelling him forward, but still he wouldn't give up and every few feet he pushed his hand against the side of the tubule, searching for the soft spot that indicated the presence of the vent behind, unable to remember clearly just how high up the shaft it was.

"Come on, come on," he growled softly around the knife as he came within sight of the energy generator at the head of the tube, and bracing himself on both his legs, he pressed his hand urgently all around. He couldn't have missed the vent. It wasn't possible. He'd checked as he'd climbed.

A trickle of sweat ran between his shoulder blades, and down his back, both at the effort of holding himself up, and at the added heat from the generator to which he was getting dangerously close. Pushing himself up another step, he began again to press his hands all around – still nothing. Another desperate lurch jostled his heart, and another anxious push with his legs took him higher. He could have laughed with joy when, a moment later, his hand encountered the spongy give of the membrane separating the tubule from the vent behind. He pushed with his legs still harder to hold his position as he reached to take the knife from between his teeth, and viciously plunged it into the fleshy skin covering the vent. Quickly he cut himself a slit, an artificial sphincter through which he all but threw himself a second later as the internal, automatic defence of the ship powered up the generator enough to send a burst of deadly energy along the veins in the side of the tube, and the slice in the membrane began to knit itself together around him.

He felt the tingle of the approaching energy, the tightening of the rubbery material around him, and wriggled and struggled his way through, like some twisted parody of birth or rebirth, and all but fell, his legs covered in the sticky, colourless slime of the Hive's regenerative fluids, into the narrow vent beyond. For just a moment or two he lay, winded and breathing hard, on the chitinous floor.

"That was too close," he told himself softly and pushed up off the floor.

The vent was small, and he had to bend almost double to be able to move along it, to move toward where he sought another membranous juncture between the ship's corridors, and the vent that ran alongside them. He could only imagine what might happen if the Hive were to take off while he was still inside the vent, and it was not a pretty picture his mind supplied, but he also knew that an incautious exit would equally as likely prove to be the death of him.

Getting out of the vent proved to be a difficult endeavour. He cut himself a hole so that he could check that the hallway of the ship beyond was unoccupied, only to have it begin to heal itself almost before he had time to look first one way and then the other. He growled, starting to get frustrated after the third attempt failed to give him long enough to check both ways at once. With a sigh he started to cut himself a hole large enough to get through. He couldn't waste time any more.

He also knew that once he was through he needed to be away from the area as soon as he could. He doubted that structural damage inside the ship would be missed by the Wraith monitoring the status of the Hive. He would have to move fast, and as far away as the maze of corridors would allow, and for just a moment, he missed having the annoying whine of McKay's voice at his side. At least then he'd have some idea of which way was best to go, but McKay was busy, and the urgency of the message he'd received – obvious now as to why – had precluded him being able to wait.

At first, his luck held. As he pushed through the membrane, the passage into which he emerged was empty of Wraith. The echoing strangeness of the corridor, however, did not comfort him and he worried he would not be able to tell from which direction any might emerge. Keeping close to the dips and alcoves in the organic shape of the hallway, he began to move as swiftly as he could away from the area he had damaged, striking inward as soon as possible… looking for a room or a chamber in which he could conceal himself; take stock and figure out a way he would be able to find Teyla.

Quickly, and as quietly as he could, Ronon slipped from one irregular alcove to the next as small groups of Wraith guards strode past him along the twisting and winding corridors. There was no doubt in his mind that they had been sent to investigate the damage to the ship and were now searching for a saboteur; the one responsible. They were looking for _him_.

The sound of booted feet, tramping closer, caught him mid-way along a slightly curving corridor. Urgently, he looked first behind him and then up ahead. He could see no new alcove in front of him, but knew that it was quite a way back to the one he had just left, and that he had no way of knowing what was behind him or whether he would walk into a patrol at his back. His heart began to race, his blood sounding loudly in his ears. Press on, or fall back – he had barely seconds to decide. If he delayed, the chances of him being spotted either way became ever more likely.

He closed his fist around the hilt of his blaster as he decided, and began to sprint ahead, down the dim lit hallway. He had no choice than to go on. He wouldn't leave Teyla in the hands of the Wraith. He knew the kinds of things they would likely do to someone such as her, and wouldn't allow her to suffer those things.

As he rounded the bend, he saw it – a deep alcove beside a door that opened onto a dark and, he hoped, unoccupied room. It was his best option; his _only _option, as the booted feet became accompanied by the slight rattle of leather and bone. He barely pressed himself into the concealing darkness, seeing from the corner of his eyes as he did, the patrol of four Wraith warriors entering the corridor from the junction ahead. He held his breath, afraid that even the slight sound of his breathing would alert them to his presence. It had been too close. He _had _to find a way to create some kind of diversion, and a way to discover where they were holding Teyla.

The breath burst out of him as the rattle of Wraith died away to the near and eerie silence of the Hive. He shivered, and carefully began to extricate himself from the cramped alcove, only to flatten himself against the wall and tip his head first one and then the other, to ensure the corridor ahead was free of Wraith, meaning to go on.

The attack came out of the darkness behind him – a rumbling growl that preceded the sudden choking sensation as a vicelike arm clamped around his neck, pulling him backwards into the dark cavern of the room. Then there came the jab of a near paralysing strike to the inside of his right elbow that sent his weapon clattering to the floor. He tried to come to one knee, to reach behind him for the Wraith assaulting him, but, pulled backwards, he could not shift his balance enough to complete the move. He considered simply allowing himself to fall backwards; to pin the unfortunate Wraith beneath him, but in the end froze, and ceased his struggles as he felt the unmistakable pressure of a Wraith blaster pushed against the small of his back. He doubted very much that it would be set to stun.

"I could kill you right now," the familiar, hated voice that sounded behind him was calm, almost mocking in its tone, "though I doubt that would serve either of our purposes."

"Michael!" he hissed, and in spite of his position, tensed every muscle in his body.

"Under the circumstances, it's good to see you again, Ronon," Michael answered. "It would be beneficial, however, if I had the opportunity to close this door, to prevent those patrols from… interrupting our little reunion."

"You let go of me, and I'm going to kill you," he warned.

"I don't think so." The confidence in Michael's voice only served to fuel Ronon's anger against the hybrid. The anger only deepened when, in the next moment, he found himself stumbling away from Michael's grasp, and barely managed to turn in time to watch the guillotine-like action of the descending door severing them from the corridor beyond. The dim illumination activated automatically, casting long shadows around the two of them, and making it harder still for him to find his fallen weapon. He heard Michael's slow footfalls cross the room as he searched.

As he glanced between the floor and the threatening presence of his adversary, he couldn't help but notice that the Wraith-Human hybrid looked more pallid than usual, that his face was more angled and bony, almost as though he had reverted further toward his original form. His hands were gloved, and there was the slightest of tremors in the one that held the weapon pointed in Ronon's direction. He also noticed that Michael moved with the slightest of limps, which could have been easily missed, save for the fact that the more Ronon noticed, the more he began to wonder what had happened and the more he examined his enemy.

"You don't look well, Michael," Ronon said in a parody of concern that he would never feel for him.

"You didn't come here to gloat over the state of my health, or otherwise, Ronon Dex," Michael rumbled just as Ronon spotted his blaster lying against one of the walls.

Michael tilted his head, but when the Satedan spun toward the weapon a second later, did nothing to prevent him from snatching it up from the ground. Nor did he move as Ronon flicked his thumb against the switch at the side of the blaster, then raised it, snarling, to point it directly at his head.

"Predictable…" Michael almost sighed, his lips parting around slightly pointed teeth through which he let out a slow, almost resigned hiss.

"What did you _do_ to her?" Ronon snarled. Michael's calm was akin to an unbearable taunt to him.

"Do?" Michael tilted his head once more, frowning in confusion. "I would imagine that, under the repeated attempts by your interrogators to debrief her, she has by now told you all exactly what befell her while she was under my care."

"Care?" Ronon sneered.

"I did not harm her!" Michael raised his voice for the first time and took a step forward, heedless of the weapon pointing at his head. He seemed to calm then, and continued in a more measured way, "That fell to the Atlanteans… after all, that is why she ran from you, isn't it?"

"She didn't run from _me_," Ronon countered.

"Why even now she struggles in the captivity of the Wraith, in danger of her life," Michael continued almost without missing a beat, "in spite of all of my efforts to ensure her safety."

"Save it," Ronon told him, pressing the gun into Michael's forehead as though he wanted to use it to keep him at arm's length. "I don't buy it any more than Sheppard did."

"It must be almost the death of you to realise that the only chance you have of finding Teyla is if you let me live – work with me," he said mockingly.

"I'll take this place apart with my bare hands before I even think about letting you walk away from this alive!" Ronon snarled.

Michael spread his arms to either side of himself, invitingly.

"Then go ahead," he said and sounded tired. "Kill me, but know that in doing so, you might as well be pulling the trigger on your friend. Is that what you want, Ronon?"

Ronon trembled, tensing every muscle, fighting himself to squeeze the trigger, to take Michael's head from his shoulders with a single shot and rid the galaxy of his threat once and for all, but Michael's words, and his manner, troubled him.

"You think you can manipulate me?" he growled as he fought with himself.

"We don't have _time_ for this, Ronon." Michael's voice was clipped and he fixed him with an intense golden stare. "My goal is the same as yours. I'm here to rescue Teyla."

As soon as he finished speaking, Michael turned away from him, and took a step towards a console that stood at the far side of the room. Grumbling in frustrated hatred, Ronon put up his weapon and, instead, reached out to catch Michael by the arm before he had moved too far. The Wraith-Human hybrid stopped moving, and turned his head to look at the contact until Ronon let go, and then he looked up into his face.

"Just tell me she's all right," he demanded, glaring at Michael. "I know you— she…"

He could not bring himself to speak of his knowing that Teyla shared a mental connection with Michael, because, if he did, then it would be admitting it were true, and could mean that everything else she had spoken of her time with Michael was true as well. At the same time he had to know that his friend was all right. He gestured toward his head and then away, knowing full well that Michael would understand.

"For the moment," Michael answered, and briefly closed his eyes, breathing out a long slow breath. When he opened his eyes again, he added, "But we must hurry. She is afraid."

He began to move again and this time Ronon went with him, the two of them crossed the room to stand in front of the control station. Michael wasted no time and quickly began working at the terminal, presumably searching the database to find out where they were holding Teyla. Ronon watched the strings of Wraith text scrolling across the screen, hating that he had no way to know that he was not, himself, being led into a trap, or being used by Michael in some kind of self-centred plan that would only get him killed.

"What happens when we find her?" he asked, no longer able to remain silent and simply watch.

"It matters very little what we think will happen. Once we have freed Teyla, we will have to fight our way out," Michael answered. "I may be able to find another control terminal and program key systems to overload – keep them busy to make our escape an easier one, but either way, we will have to fight."

Ronon shook his head. He knew their escape from the Hive would not be without battle. What he wanted to know was what the two of them would do once the need for this alliance was over; once they had rescued Teyla and got away.

Michael turned slowly from the console and fixed him with an intense glare as if he understood exactly what was going through Ronon's mind.

"Then," he said slowly, "we must let Teyla decide."

Ronon took a breath, fearful of what that might mean for him, for the team, for Teyla…

_"You really meant it," he said sadly, "about not coming back?"_

_"Ronon, I am sorry," she said softly, "but not for a long time, if ever."_

_She shivered then and allowed him to draw her closer._

_"Promise me something, Ronon," she asked softly._

_"Anything," he answered._

_"Look out for the others… especially where Varnerin is concerned."_

_"You have my word on that," he said with just a hint of anger in his voice. He softened quickly as he asked, "What will you do now?"_

_"There is only one thing I can do," she said and there was sorrow in her eyes. Some part of him knew that she was thinking of Michael, and all she had discovered that had happened between them, and through that, thinking of her missing son. "I have to find Nethaiye."_

_"And Michael?" he asked hesitantly._

_"I honestly do not know what I might do when we next meet," she said, and then frowning, added, "If we ever do."_

_Ronon nodded, understanding and accepting that she would have a confused mix of feelings. Michael had fixed his attention on her, had taken her from her friends and now had her child in his possession, but through it all, she had said, he never harmed her, or the boy, in fact treated them both with care and concern._

He opened his mouth to comment, to accuse Michael of using the baby as a lever to ensure that Teyla would go with him, but Michael had already turned back to the console and spoke before he could.

"They have taken her to the Hive Commander. Three levels up," he said, and his hands flew over the few buttons on the terminal. "I have created a program to cause random overloads in the power distribution grid. It will keep them busy while we find a way to get to that level." He moved away from the workstation and toward the door, drawing the weapon from his belt as he did. "We must work quickly. This way."

At the best of times, Ronon didn't like to play games of cat and mouse. He would have preferred a more direct approach than continuing to duck from shadow to shadow as they made their way upwards and toward the centre of the Hive. He understood the need for stealth, as Michael had said, at least until they had Teyla from the hands of the Wraith commander. After that he resolved not only to kill any and all Wraith that came their way, but also to find a way to rid them all of Michael. In spite of everything Teyla had said, he still believed that the Wraith-Human hybrid was somehow influencing her thoughts and feelings and, if she could be freed from such influence, she would return to her normal self and there would be nothing to stop her from coming back to Atlantis.

Interrupting Ronon's thoughts, Michael stopped suddenly and flattened himself against the wall, signalling to Ronon to be still. For just a second, Ronon was tempted to ignore him and move on anyway, until he heard the sound of movement from ahead. Still, for pure spite, he still gave it consideration. They were near to the commander's quarters. Michael had told him that a couple of junctions ago, so what harm could it do now that they were closer still?

Ronon was about to move when, beside him, Michael stiffened.

"Teyla!" he gasped softly, and Ronon thought he heard fear and urgency in his voice – perhaps pain. Ronon's impression was confirmed when barely a second later Michael, through clenched teeth, growled, "The second doorway. Go!"

Ronon needed no second bidding. He all but threw himself into the hallway, firing as he went even before he could see his targets. The Wraith warriors, five of them, all turned and began to return fire. He did not stop moving, coming toward them, even as he dodged from side to side to avoid the energy from their weapons. Soon he stood toe to toe with one of the warriors and, still firing at the others with his blaster, he snatched a knife from his sheath, and lashed out at the warrior directly ahead.

It was perhaps not the smartest, nor the quickest way to dispose of the Wraith warriors that stood between him and Teyla's safety, but it was infinitely more satisfying than just shooting them.

As Michael joined the fight, quickly taking out two of the warriors, the Wraith that Ronon battled abandoned his own weapon and came at Ronon with clawed hands leading. Ronon ducked under the warrior's wild swing and punched forward with the knife in his left hand. He didn't expect it to be easy so wasn't at all disappointed or worried when the warrior blocked the strike with a sweeping arc of his hand, pushing it aside even as he caught a hold of Ronon's wrists.

Undeterred, Ronon brought his head down, hard, against the bone covering on the Wraith's face, sending the warrior staggering backwards, and freeing himself from the grasp on his wrists. Instead of following through with a punch, Ronon shifted his weight onto his back foot and launched a powerful kick at the Wraith. The warrior, already off balance, was pushed further back, into one of the two other remaining soldiers that were beyond the entrance they needed to take, where Michael was already frantically working to access the locked doorway.

As Ronon moved to continue his attack against the Wraith, he saw that Michael was forced to duck aside from what he was doing in order to avoid another blast of energy from the Wraith guards.

"Keep working," Ronon yelled. "Just get us inside. I'll hold them off."

Michael's answer was to turn back to the panel and continue his attempt to get the lock to respond to his commands.

Ronon threw himself at the three Wraith, firing from the hip and taking out the one he had been fighting. As the Wraith warrior fell, as if mimicking Ronon's own actions, one of the others also fired and, with nowhere to go to dodge the blast, the energy caught Ronon square on.

He felt the crippling tingle beginning to spread through the muscles of his arms and legs, saw the already dimly lit hallway dim still further as his vision began to fail, but he would not allow himself to submit. Teyla was counting on him, and he refused to let Michael reach her alone.

He growled, gathering every ounce of strength within himself and began to push back the debilitating effects of the Wraith stunner. His hand twitched, and then moved to raise his weapon, to take aim at one of the Wraith, his finger locked in spasm as he fired, sending more than a single bolt of energy the Wraith's way, and down the corridor as the Wraith fell to his attack. He barely registered the second volley of bolts from Michael's weapon, or the strong grasp that grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled him backwards in through the now open doorway.

He stumbled to one knee as Michael let go, and might have succumbed to the residual effects of the Wraith stunner, but for a single sound that penetrated the numbness and confusion in his body.

Teyla whimpered.

"No… no…!" She sounded in pain, panicked. "Do no—! Let me _go_!"

Then she barely stifled a scream.

As Ronon fought to shake off the inability to move, he heard an enraged growling come from beside him. He forced his head to move and saw, as Michael flew toward the two struggling figures, that a massive Wraith had Teyla pinned to the wall of the chamber. She was struggling with the Wraith, making a valiant effort to defend herself, but even uninjured – and from the glimpses he could see of her during the struggle he could make out several long gashes over her body – she would have stood no chance to keep the Wraith at bay.

Michael reached the Wraith and dragged the creature away from Teyla. He already had a knife in his hand and even as he pulled the commander further away from Teyla, Michael lashed out, catching the Wraith a deep and vicious gash across his right arm, before punching forward again with the knife leading.

"Michael…" Teyla gasped, and held her place against the wall for just a moment before her strength began to fail and she slid almost gracefully toward the floor.

Anger and adrenaline flushed through Ronon and finally pushing aside the insidious fog that still hampered him, he hurried toward Teyla and caught her as she fell, cradling her in his strong embrace. She felt brittle and delicate in his arms, like eggshell that would crumble at the slightest touch.

Indecision threatened to stifle him as he ran his eyes over her. She was bleeding badly from a wound to her abdomen, and many other bloody scratches ran the length of her body, but worst of all, the commander had been in the process of feeding, and while she was not as bad as some he'd seen, he doubted she would survive.

"Teyla, hold on," he told her urgently, rocking her in his arms. Then he looked over to where the Wraith and former Wraith battled viciously in the centre of the room. Though he didn't want to distract Michael and risk the commander getting the upper hand, he had to alert him to Teyla's condition, hoping, perhaps, that there was something that the Wraith-Human hybrid could do.

Faster than was humanly possible the Wraith commander and Michael exchanged blow after blow. It was almost mesmerising to watch the way first one, and then the other would strike and counter-strike, would reel from a landing punch and then rolling with it, turn to take advantage of their opponents over-reaching stance.

Unbelievably, given that he had just fed, the Wraith commander was tiring. Ronon couldn't understand how, until the commander turned in an attempt to avoid a wild, swinging attack from the knife that Michael held in his left hand. It was then that Ronon saw the stream of blood that ran down over his hip, from one of the first wounds that Michael had inflicted as he'd pulled the Wraith away from Teyla.

As Ronon watched, Michael lunged forward again to grab the weakening Wraith by the front of his leather coat, and moving in close, rolled the off-balance Wraith over his hip and to the floor. He didn't stop there. He twisted his own body so that he came to one knee beside the Wraith, kneeling on the commander's outstretched feeding hand until he could drive the knifepoint through the Wraith's wrist.

Then, snarling, obviously oblivious to anything around him, Michael tore off the gloves and tossing them to the side slammed his own right hand against the Wraith commander's chest.

The Wraith howled in agony, and Michael threw back his head. He hissed and growled loudly.

In Ronon's arms, Teyla whimpered again and turned her head to press her face against his chest.

"He can't. He—" she began, before a sob broke her voice, and almost Ronon's heart, but as he watched in dark fascination, as disturbing as it was to see Michael taking what life was left to the Wraith commander, hope flared inside of Ronon. If Michael could do that, then it stood to reason that he could also do the opposite. He could save Teyla.

"Michael!" he called urgently. "Michael, stop. You—"

Michael's head snapped around to face him, his eyes wild and he hissed again as if resenting the interruption. Then instinct faded, and he breathed out Ronon's name, releasing the Wraith commander from his feeding grasp, and turning fully to face his unlikely ally.

"It's Teyla, she—" Ronon started, but as he spoke the ship beneath them bucked wildly, and around them the sound of several explosions barely preceded the shrill alarm that began to sound throughout the Hive.

Michael frowned as he fought to keep his balance and to reach Ronon and Teyla's side. Ronon read the confusion in his face and asked, "Not your doing?"

Michael shook his head as he came to his knees beside the two of them. "The overloads I programmed into the power distribution grid should have been minor. I did not wish to risk accidentally destroying the Hive while we were still aboard." Michael paused and then said more urgently than Ronon had ever heard from anyone, "Let me see her."

Teyla shrank away from Michael, further into Ronon's embrace as Michael reached for her. He froze, tilted his head to one side, looking equally as gently on Teyla as his voice had been urgent a moment before.

"Michael?" she looked at him as though she barely recognised him and reached out a trembling hand to brush her fingertips beside the grooves on his cheek. Michael closed his eyes and breathed out as her fingers grazed his skin.

Ronon's heart lurched, and he fought to keep his anger and resentment from launching him into Michael as he wished; to keep in his mind that until the Half-Wraith had done what he could to heal Teyla, then _he_ had to keep his hands off him.

"I will not harm you, Teyla," Michael's voice was barely above a whisper. "You know that."

"But you—"

He shook his head and she stopped speaking, allowing him to take her fingers away from where they rested against his cheek.

"There is no time." He barely turned his head to indicate the shift in focus of his conversation, to show that he was including Ronon. "The others are coming."

As if to prove his words as true, the Hive lurched again beneath them as more explosions went off deep inside the ship. In shifting, Teyla cried out in pain and tightened her grip on Michael's hand. Ronon could see the white of her knuckles.

"Let me take her," Michael said to him, but he shook his head.

"You do what you have to do, but I'm not letting go of her," he growled.

"Ronon, I—" Teyla whispered, opening her eyes again. "It is all right. He will not hurt me."

Reluctantly, Ronon allowed Michael to take Teyla into his embrace. He watched as his friend sighed softly and laid her head against Michael's left shoulder and then looked up into the hybrid's eyes, a sad expression on her face.

"I am sorry, Michael," she whispered softly.

Michael almost smiled, and shook his head. "It was not of your doing, and easily solved. You need not trouble yourself over it. Only rest – let me do this for you."

Teyla swallowed hard, but nodded and Michael almost reverently, Ronon thought, moved aside the torn fabric from the top of her chest, and gently laid his hand against her skin. Teyla gave a soft, gasping cry, and her open eyes locked with Michael's.

Ronon could not miss the look of rapture that passed between the two of them as, in front of him, Teyla's wounds began to knit, her puckered, aged flesh began to smooth and regress toward the blossom of her youth. He knew then, that in all likelihood, he had lost her just as surely as if she had passed from her injuries.

"_—non, this is Sheppard, please respond._"

The sudden crackle of his radio, that resolved itself into John Sheppard's urgent call, made Ronon jump, and pulled him from his sorrowing thoughts. This was not over yet.

"Sheppard," he said as he keyed his radio. "We're aboard the Hive. I've got Teyla!"

"_What_?" Sheppard's voice sounded panicked. "_Ronon, you've got to get the hell out of there_."

"What's going on?"

"_We've got the Daedalus inbound, with orders to employ any and all measures to take out that Hive. ETA – fifteen minutes_."

Ronon reached out to lay a hand on Michael's arm, interrupting the communion.

"We gotta go," he said.

"But—"

"There's no more time," he growled. "In ten minutes this place is going to be a fireball around us if we don't get the hell out."

"Sheppard," Michael snarled, and shifted his arms around the still disoriented Teyla, to carry her as he got to his feet, ready to follow Ronon.

Ronon pulled his gun and began to lead the way, keying his mic as he did. "Sheppard, we're on our way out. Where are you?"

"_In a cloaked jumper, outside the rear Dart bay doors_." Sheppard answered. "_You've got… seven minutes, that'll barely give us enough time to get clear._"

"We'll be there," Ronon yelled and, turning to Michael, said, "Rear Dart bay."

"Left," Michael answered, flattening himself against the wall, making of himself a shield between the open, and the precious bundle in his arms as Ronon opened the door to the commander's quarters.

The corridor outside was clear. Between the minor explosions caused by Michael's overload protocol, and the explosions that must have been left over from Sheppard's arrival on the scene, many of the Wraith were too busy to intercept them. Ronon knew it would not last, but used the advantage to speed them toward their point of escape.

With each step he took, however, back to back with Michael and firing as they progressed, to keep the Wraith that were now coming against them at bay, his resentment grew. How could he allow the most dangerous individual the Pegasus galaxy had seen in many a year to simply walk away with one of the most gentle? He had to do something; had to open Teyla's eyes to the truth of what Michael truly was.

As they reached the Dart bay, within sight of the exit, Ronon turned and, risking hurt to Teyla, smashed his forearm against the small of Michael's back. Ronon could feel Michael's balance falter and he thought that the Wraith-Human hybrid had not been expecting such an attack, but Michael came, quite controlled, to one knee. He set Teyla down on the floor of the Dart bay, and without a moment's hesitation, came up to face Ronon, both of them with their weapons pointing in the other's direction.

"You disappoint me, Ronon—" he started.

"I'll kill you!" Ronon snarled, tipping his blaster onto one side and tightening his grip, his finger twitching against the trigger.

"—you, of all people, should know the power of the _Gift of Life_, even when insincerely given. When given as we have," he gestured toward Teyla, "in a true and honest fashion—"

"You son of a bitch!" Ronon yelled in Michael's face. "You think you can take her away from us?"

"You are allowing your jealousy to blind you," Michael retorted calmly.

"She's my _friend_," Ronon implored. "I just want her to see the truth of what you are!"

"What _I _am," Michael tilted his head. "What _you_ and your friends _made_ of me."

"Save it, Michael." Ronon snarled, "You may have won her sympathy with that tired old crap, but I know better. You're a monster, no matter how you package it; present yourself. You're a _monster_. You always have been, and always _will_ be."

"Really," Michael taunted him as they continued to circle each other.

"They might not see it because they don't _want_ to see it, but—"

"And you do, I suppose."

"I know the only way _any _of them are going to have peace is if you're dead." Ronon spat.

"Come then," Michael snarled at him, and threw aside the blaster in his hand to pull a knife from his belt. "Let's finish it!"

Ronon holstered his weapon and snatched up his own knife, barely pausing before he lunged at Michael in a flurry of test strikes. Michael's quick reactions blocked each of them, before he threw off the big Satedan warrior and the both of them crouched slightly as they continued to circle each other.

"You think she will thank you if you kill me?" Michael threw the words at him with a jerk of his head toward Teyla.

"She'll understand," Ronon grumbled, shifting the knife from hand to hand, "once your influence fades from her mind."

"So sure of yourself," Michael answered and came on in a sudden, blurring attack. He struck first high, then low, his lunges never coming twice in the same direction, and Ronon struggled to make the blocks in time, and to dodge those that almost slipped past his guard.

"You're good," Michael purred as they fought, "but you're not good enough. I'm stronger than you – faster than you…"

He dodged first one way and then the other as Ronon struck out angrily with his blade in one hand and his closed fist, both attempting to connect with Michael; to take him down.

"…your time is ending, Ronon Dex. You and the other Atlanteans no longer understand the galaxy in which you think to play a part."

Neither of them saw Teyla barely rouse herself and reach toward them weakly… softly, almost inaudibly, calling to both of them.

"Michael… Ronon… please stop." she whispered.

Michael pulled back, putting some distance between them, guarding but no longer on the attack. Ronon frowned, growling, and regardless – unwilling to let his enemy go – swung ahead of him again, slicing a deep gash across the front of Michael's chest.

"Michael!" Teyla gasped, and enraged by her concern, caught in the net of his own irrationality, Ronon lunged forward, with his knife leading, meaning to drive the point of the blade deep into Michael's heart.

At first he thought that Michael had punched him in the gut, winded him badly, but then, as the white hot lance travelled from the middle of his belly into the deepest part of his brain, he knew it was more than that. He tasted blood in his mouth, and glancing down, saw that he had, in trying to reach Michael with his own knife, all but walked onto the Wraith-Human hybrid's blade.

Though smaller than he, Michael supported Ronon's weight as the Satedan's strength began to falter and his legs folded under him.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" Michael asked, his voice a rasping, but sincere whisper, before he let go of him, let him fall to the ground, the knife still there in his belly.

Michael moved to Teyla's side again, speaking earnestly with her in words that Ronon could not hear for the rushing of blood in his ears. Then Michael lifted her into his arms again, and carried her toward one of the ships in the bay.

Ronon gasped for breath, fought to raise his hand, to find his earpiece and activate his radio.

"She—Sh—help!" he managed, and as his vision started to fade, he watched as the Wraith scout ship lifted off from the floor of the Dart bay, and almost dipped its wing in salute as it powered away from the Hive.


	2. Act 2

**Act 2**

As if the incessant drilling behind his eyes wasn't already enough, Sheppard winced as they came through the Gate and the rhythmic blaring of the city's alarm added another jackhammer to the mining going on inside his head.

"Somebody get a medical team," he called out almost before he was completely oriented, and he let go the hold he had on the vest of the unconscious marine he had dragged through the Stargate behind him. "And get McKay down here, now!"

Other members of the, much depleted, alpha team exited the event horizon after him, some of them dragging, as he had been, unconscious team members behind them. He sighed softly as he watched them, and moved aside for the medical personnel that came rushing into the area, summoned at his behest.

"What happened?" Woolsey came down the stairs to the floor of the Gate Room, frowning, and looking at him with urgent expectation, then looking around, he added, "Where's Ronon?"

"What happened," Sheppard replied, rounding on the base commander irritably, "is that your Intel was a crock!"

"I assure you, the Intel came from a reliable source," Woolsey countered.

"Yeah, well," Sheppard said, "they started out all friendly, concerned and in need, took us just far enough from the Gate and then turned on us so fast they made the Genii look like… fluffy bunnies. McKay!"

"This had better be good, Sheppard," McKay answered Sheppard as he arrived and hurriedly caught the object that Sheppard tossed in his direction. "You pulled me away from half a dozen important—"

"Find out what you can about that," Sheppard interrupted, nodding toward the weapon now in McKay's hands.

"It's a stunner," McKay said, making a move to hand the weapon back to Sheppard, looking offended that the Colonel had dragged him away from his lab, all the way down to the Gate Room, just to have him look over something they already knew as much about as they were ever going to get to know. "A Wraith Stunner."

"Take another look, McKay," Sheppard instructed, "It might _look_ like a Wraith Stunner, but, I can assure you, it's anything _but_."

"What do you mean?" McKay looked up at him and then, frowning, looked around the Gate Room. "Where's Ronon?"

"He got hit by one of those things," Sheppard said, gesturing toward the weapon, then at the marines that were being wheeled away by the medics. "They all did. Took 'em down without even so much as a whimper."

"Even Ronon?" McKay's frown, and the way he began in earnest to examine the weapon he still held in his hands, did little to comfort Sheppard.

"Even Ronon," he said, his voice falling.

"So it's a very much _improved_ Wraith Stunner," Woolsey said, peering at the weapon. "We knew we couldn't expect the Wraith _not_ to make technological advances, especially with scientists like Todd working on—"

"These are not Wraith weapons," Sheppard insisted. "They might have been… developed from – based off of Wraith Stunners but—"

"No, no, no," McKay rattled off quickly. "To be able to develop something like this would take a knowledge of technology far in advance of anything the indigenous peoples of the Pegasus galaxy have ever developed. We know that the Wraith routinely monitor those kind of advances; stop their food sources from becoming too… clever, shall we say."

"Isn't it possible that these people are some kind of… Wraith worshippers?" Woolsey asked, "We've seen that before and—"

"It's possible," Sheppard said, the doubt clear in his voice. "But I think that the skeletal remains of several Wraith hanging in cages beside the roadways kinda makes that unlikely."

"Remains?" Woolsey asked.

"Roadside cages?" Rodney asked a second later.

"Just… see what you can figure out about that thing," Sheppard said irritably, "and fast. I want to know what it is we're up against. Meanwhile have Lieutenant Edgecombe and his team meet us in the conference room."

"You're going back out there?" McKay asked. He sounded as though he thought Sheppard was crazy.

"Well," Sheppard answered, "unlike the marines we brought back, Ronon was right in the thick of it when they hit him."

"They've taken him prisoner?" Woolsey asked.

"Dragged him off to one of their settlements," Sheppard confirmed angrily. "And as soon as I can assemble an assault team, and preferably figure out a defence against those things," he nodded again toward the weapon in McKay's hands, "I mean to go and get him back."

**

The woman could barely see. She hovered in the entrance to the cavern waiting for instruction or invitation to enter… to bring the report. For a long time he sat, motionless still, with his back to her, all his attention centred on the young one before him.

"If you have come to inform us that they escaped," he said at last, his voice a whispering echo around the irregular walls, "then you have wasted your journey. She already knows."

"Not all of them," she dared, and took a step into the darkness. "One of them we brought back to the settlement above."

The Guardian stood, and turned in a single fluid motion, advancing toward the woman, hand outstretched to grasp her by the throat and drag her further into the cavern and to her knees in front of the adolescent female.

"One is not enough," he hissed angrily, "Look at her—"

"I cannot," she protested.

"Look at her!" he grabbed the back of her neck and forced her to look up into the female's bloodshot eyes, more red than golden-yellow. "A single mind cannot sustain her mental development. She needs more!"

**

There was something supremely unsettling in the knowledge that the reason they were motionless in space; that the Hive was all but lifeless around them, was because the very fabric of the ship had been weakened by the subspace radiation of hyperspace travel. She shivered as she thought on how the organic, semi-sentient superstructure was once again regenerating.

Vega wrapped her arms around herself and leaned against the bulkhead beside the viewing port. The state of the Hive was not the only reason for the way she felt. She was afraid because, for the first time since she woke to find herself among the Wraith, she knew that Todd was nowhere nearby.

She hadn't realised, until she arrived at the viewing port, that she was watching for the return of the cruiser on which he had left; waiting to feel safe again, and with that realisation came a hundred other thoughts, a nest of confusion inside of her.

The absurdity of actually being able to feel safe aboard a Wraith Hive ship washed over her with an intensity that became more overwhelming as the maelstrom whirled inside of her – with everything she had seen and heard; everything she felt and all the things she did not know or understand – and then there was Todd.

He was her biggest fear. More accurately, the way she felt – more specifically, the developing… closeness between the two of them.

What had begun as simple recognition, on her part, of the Wraith so often mentioned in Colonel Sheppard's reports…

_"What are you researching anyway?" she asked the Wraith as she watched him, wracking her brain to try and figure out why it was he was so familiar to her._

_"I am trying to find a cure for the effects of the Hoffan drug, and a way for the Wraith to guard against it," he told her openly, "among other things."_

_"Other things?" she queried, picking up on his manner of giving her just enough information to let her understand that there were things that he couldn't tell her, for the sake of her safety. It confused her that it would concern him._

_"Well, now," he said, walking a little down the line of alcoves and looking on their occupants, whom she knew to be hybrids. "Michael's hybrids are unlikely to be able to help in that respect, are they?"_

_"Michael's hyb—" The truth, the realisation of why she knew this Wraith, hit her as surely as if he'd taken the butt of a P90 to the side of her head. His manner, the star-like tattoo around his left eye… "Todd?"_

_He spun around to face her so quickly, and startled her so badly that she fell back against the bench that passed for her bed as he started back toward her._

_"Do not call me by that name here," he said urgently, glancing at the door as though it would open any moment. "Colonel Sheppard sent you?"_

_He sat down beside her on the bench and reached out to draw her back into a more upright, more comfortable position._

_"No, no, I…" she frowned and looked up at him, "I was beamed aboard one of Michael's Darts as Doctor McKay was searching the rubble for—"_

_"You have its research?" he cut in._

_"No," she said and looked away. "He took it from me."_

_"A pity," he said with a sigh. "But perhaps we can be of more assistance to each other than I thought."_

…had snowballed out of their control when the fickle Queen she had been forced to serve had sent her to him as a physical reward for his achievements.

Sheppard's reports named Todd as unusually honourable, for a Wraith, who had picked up an understanding of many human nuances during his time in the captivity of the Genii. Sheppard had not exaggerated and even though the queen had sent her to be used as his plaything, he had not taken advantage of the fact, or of her.

_"I will not make that decision for you. Some Wraith… would. I will not. It must be your choice and I expect you to be honest with me."_

She ran a hand over her face, and for a moment sighed. Honest – how could she be honest with him if she wasn't even sure what she felt? Was that even true? Here she was, standing at the viewing port of the Hive, waiting for him to return like some… lonely lover, pining away. True, she didn't feel safe, and knowing he was away, she felt threat and menace from every dark corner of the Hive, but her line of thought as she waited for the return of that safety rekindled feelings that left her in an almost breathless turmoil.

… His hands on her… the feel of his breath, his protective arrogance…

_"I will bring my concubine where I wish," Todd answered the other Wraith, and drew Vega even closer for a moment._

_His use of the word made Vega's heart and stomach change places. To hear the open secret, so plainly spoken between two commanders among the Wraith, and in front of other sub-commanders, was disturbing enough, but combined with the idle caress that had become almost a clear defiance of the Hive Commander, it left her trembling with the uncertainly of her own feelings, let alone of his. She swallowed, and knowing she should do something to display the mutual involvement in this supposed tryst, ran her own hand down the leather of the arm that surrounded her, and onto the back of his right hand, to run her fingers along his._

_"After all," Todd continued, shifting his hand beneath hers, guided beneath her touch to slowly climb her body. "Our Queen has given her the freedom of the Hive… unless of course…" she had to stifle a small moan as she felt the warmth of Todd's hand at the underside of her breast, and felt him breathe out slowly, before he eased her away from him. She found herself standing beside the two Wraith who now faced each other. "…you wish to challenge me."_

The memory of being in his arms on the bridge, and later, again, in his laboratory, suddenly flooded through her hard and fast…

_Todd eased her away from the workbench. He turned her in his almost soft grasp, to hold her as he had been on the bridge, one arm across her waist, the other teasing at the sensitive skin of her neck._

_"I think you'll find that we could have plenty left to explore…" he said. Her fingers found their way to cover his hand, to slide over his pale digits. She leaned her head back beside the opened buckle, breathing in small snatches at the swirl of sensation his actions, and her own response, were causing. She closed her eyes as he finished softly, "If that was what you wanted."_

_"I don't know what I want," she told him, her voice an honest and frightened whisper, but she could not ignore the desire that was stirring in her. "Are you making me feel this way… with your mind, I mean?"_

_"Do I need to?" he purred, drawing her back a little more closely against him, and switched the positions of their hands, so that his larger fingers ran strong caresses against hers, front and back, until his fingernails could scrape lightly against her wrist. "The same… pulse…" his voice sounded right beside her ear, and she had not realised he had leaned down to her. She jumped a little, and let out a small gasp, that became a moan as he continued with both his words, and his caresses, "…flows in your veins… as in mine…"_

_"Todd…" she whispered in a rush._

_"No." The word was more like a breath that moved over her, a warm wind that set every nerve jumping and every hair to stand on end. "Not any more."_

_The breath continued, and he allowed her to turn in his arms._

_She looked up at him, her breathing unsteady and asked, "What… do you mean?"_

_He tilted his head, and ran his fingertips over her cheek, almost lightly, almost gently, "Beyond a certain point…" He took a step closer, and she couldn't help but back up until the arm around her waist tightened and drew her closer again. "…if we cross that line, it changes many things…" His fingers moved against the small of her back, drawing the smallest of voiced sighs from her as she rested her hands against the warmed leather of his chest, feeling the deep rising and falling of his breathing. "…that we know of one another. I would not longer be the one you know of only as… Todd."_

_"That's not necessarily true," she said, her voice trembling as much as her fingers, which moved idly over the broad plains on which they rested. "You—"_

_"You would prefer I entered into this only for my own…" his fingers began to travel in a slow, sensual crawl over the skin of her neck and shoulders. The light scrape of his fingertips was almost a burning fever that swept over her as he finished, the word almost a sigh from his lips, "gratification? Would you have me treat you as the Hive Commander treats the one sent to him by the Queen?"_

_"I told you," she whispered, and shook visibly as his fingers completed their maddening glide toward her own hand, and lifted it away from his chest, to toy idly with her fingers. "I… I don't know what I want. I—"_

_"Oh, I think you do," he told her softly and, turning his head, lifted her hand, exposing the inside of her wrist to the touch of his breath. She pushed against his chest with her other hand, overwhelmed and uncertain of trusting – not him, but herself. As if he knew what she was thinking, he said, "You only fear to admit it to yourself."_

_"But—" She gasped as the breath against her wrist became the touch of his lips, the light, nipping scrape of his teeth against her pulse point, the long goatee that brushed against the side of her arm only adding to the rush of sensation. Her voice cracked as she continued, "What _**is**_ this?"_

_"Mutual and dangerous fascination, perhaps?" he suggested, barely a murmur amid his continued, seductive attentions._

_"Dangerous?" she breathed, her head swimming._

_"There are many dangers, Alicia," he said, abruptly releasing her hand from his grasp and straightening up to look into her eyes. She couldn't help but back away at the slightly feral glimmer that lay barely concealed there, "for both of us…if we make this journey we are beginning."_

_He took another step toward her then, and she backed away, gasping as she made contact with the workbench behind her. He stepped closer again, and with nowhere to go she raised her hands between them once more, leaning away, but unconsciously, while grasping the front of his coat for support, pulling him closer._

_"But… you wouldn't—"_

_"I told you once," he rumbled as he leaned over her a little, his hands, both of them, beginning a slow, suggestive climb over the front of her – his right against her bodice, his left, still lower. "to never forget where you are, and _**who**_ you are with."_

_His voice held soft menace, as one of his hands came to rest, his fingers lightly curled around her soft throat, his weight barely pressing over her as he leaned closer still._

_"I remember," she let out the words, a whisper that revealed both her trepidation, and her desire. "Hard to forget. You—"_

"Awaiting the return of your master," the bitterness in the Wraith's voice cut into her memory and she spun around to find the Hive Commander dangerously close to her. "How admirable."

"Commander," she began to try and inch away from the bulkhead; to put herself into the more open space of the hallway. He anticipated her and stepped in closer, making it impossible. She looked up into his predatory face, only accentuated by the way his hair, unlike other Wraith, was pulled back from his face. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Do not think I don't see through the clever sophistry you weave here, Human," he said as he dwarfed her, making her take another step towards the bulkhead.

"I… have told no lies, Commander. I have sought only to serve my Que—"

His backhanded slap drove her backwards to collide with the uneven surface of the wall. She hit the back of her head and bit her tongue, yelping slightly from the pain, but that, too, was cut off as his fingers closed around her throat.

"You are fortunate that my Queen has many concerns that occupy her attention, so that she has not the time to see through the duplicity of an ungrateful handmaiden," he snarled.

She clawed at his hand, beginning to feel light-headed from lack of oxygen. Desperation started to blossom inside of her and with it came her struggles.

"Please," she gasped, meaning to protest innocence of his accusations.

"Know this," he warned softly as he let go of her. She fell to the floor and he leaned down, his face against hers and his feeding hand hovering barely millimetres from her heaving chest. "The moment you slip, the instant he leaves any evidence of your collusion, I will expose the both of you for the liars you are. Then I will show you what it _truly_ means to be concubine to a Wraith Commander, and afterwards I shall take even greater pleasure in feeding on you."

Under normal circumstances, the threat would have been a waking nightmare to Vega, but since the last Wraith that tried to feed on her had suffered the effect of her exposure to the Hoffan drug at Michael's hands, she felt somewhat safe from that fate. She perhaps even hoped he would try, but then she remembered the condition in which Hanna had returned from the Commander's bed.

Nausea rose to strangle her as surely as the Commander had, only moments ago, been doing. Hanna was a true worshipper, and was as loyal and obedient to the Hive Commander as she was to the Queen. If she had returned so injured from her time with him, Vega couldn't help but doubt there would be much left of her own life on which the Commander would feed.

She shivered, and began to scramble away, but there was no need for her haste. The Commander had already turned, and was now stalking away.

**

Sheppard watched as the two teams began to assemble in the Jumper Bay. Lieutenant Edgecombe would pilot the second Jumper.

Sheppard sighed. He would have preferred to have Lorne as back-up, but from what Keller said, the longer the major remained as a hybrid, the less receptive he became to any approach by Atlantis Personnel. Sheppard began to despair at ever getting Lorne back to his old self.

"Colonel Sheppard," Woolsey called as he hurried into the Jumper Bay. "I trust you'll be taking adequate precautions to ensure that no more of our people are in any way compromised by these weapons."

"That's why I'm taking the Jumpers," Sheppard said, "We'll cloak just as soon as we get through the Gate, fly right up to their doorsteps if we have to."

"So what you're saying is that you'll be relying on the element of surprise," Woolsey asked. "I wish I were comforted by that."

"Look, bottom line," Sheppard said, cutting the air with his hand, "we'll do whatever we have to, to get Ronon out."

"You don't even know that he's alive," Woolsey argued.

"Oh, he's alive," Sheppard answered. "These people wanted prisoners for something. Otherwise, why – when you have technology like that at your disposal – use non-lethal weapons?"

"You have a point I suppose," Woolsey said after a while. "All right. Maintain radio contact at all times and if _anything_ goes awry—"

"Believe me," Sheppard said, "nothing is going to go wrong."

"I wish I had your confidence, Colonel Sheppard," Woolsey said with a sigh, "I'm still not convinced that we're not dealing with the Wraith, and this time we don't have Teyla to warn us."

"_Now_ you start to appreciate her participation," Sheppard muttered to himself.

**

He sat motionless, his back against the corner of the cell, his knees drawn up. Though his hands were clasped around his legs, his head was up. His eyes were open and staring ahead.

He knew the human psychologist was outside the bars of his holding cell, but did not acknowledge his presence. He did not feel the need. Heightened instinct and senses told him of the man's predatory nature. He could smell his aggression and excitement.

He had his instructions…

_-wait-_

_-defend-_

…and he would not fail. In spite of his condition, he knew this place, and its people, and even though Teyla was no longer in the city, he could not be sure that he would not be needed yet.

**

Just as the last time he had visited the Atlantis expedition member, turned hybrid by Michael, as, some would insist, the only way to save his life, Lorne said nothing, and did not move for the entire time that Varnerin stood outside his cell watching him.

At first he found it mildly amusing, and resolved to see how long it would last. However, as the time passed, still with no response from the hybrid, it started to grate on his nerves almost as much as the constant presence of the marine watching over the two of them.

"Would you step outside, please," he said to the man beside the door. He thought perhaps the sound of voices might rouse the major from his silence, but he did not give any sign that he had even heard.

"Sorry, sir, I can't do that," the marine answered. "Colonel Sheppard's orders."

Varnerin grumbled inwardly, though he wasn't really surprised. During his last visit with Lorne he had attempted to get the former major to talk and had, perhaps unwisely, used a taser on the man. The entire incident had been reported by the duty soldier and had not done much to improve his relationship with the existing members of the Atlantis Expedition. Even Richard Woolsey had baulked at his use of such methods, and he had been certain that he could wind the little weasel around in knots and get him onside without a problem. Though Woolsey had defended him to a point, he was nowhere near as malleable as Varnerin had hoped.

It would prove to be somewhat of a hindrance, he was becoming more and more certain of that, and he didn't have time for obstacles.

_"Reuben, I'm sure we don't need to tell you how important it is that you… keep this to yourself until you can establish your place in Atlantis, or until you have no choice otherwise than to reveal our intentions…"_

He hadn't needed the little pep talk from those who had contacted him with the proposition. He wasn't stupid.

He took a deep breath to calm the irritation and turning his head slightly to address the marine, said, "Open it."

As the force field began to discharge, and the doorway to slide open, Lorne finally moved, starting to get to his feet.

"Please," Varnerin said cordially, "there's no need to get up. I was intending to sit, after all."

He gestured to the opposite corner, ironically the one where Lorne had pinned him by the throat after his use of the taser.

Lorne tilted his head, as though this confused him for a moment, before he said, "You're intending to attempt to build some kind of relationship between the two of us."

"I just want to talk. I have some questions," Varnerin said.

"You know I will not answer them," Lorne said, though he did return to his former position, "So why do you waste your time?"

"Perhaps I don't consider it a waste." Varnerin lowered himself to sit, almost mirroring the Hybrid-Lorne's position. "They're not particularly questions about your… what is he, your… leader?"

"He is the future of this galaxy," Lorne said.

"Interesting." Varnerin blinked. Of all the answers he could have predicted Lorne would give, that was not on his list of expectations.

Lorne tilted his head and was silent for a moment before he asked, "Is that what you wish to hear?"

Varnerin couldn't help but chuckle. "Very clever… Very disarming, but not at all necessary, I assure you. I'm not here as your adversary – not today, in any case."

"You are on nobody's side but your own," Lorne accused softly.

"I'm here to do a job – just like everyone else," Varnerin answered. He found Lorne's manner somewhat disturbing; the way that he seemed to know more than he would say.

"You had questions," Lorne said, fixing his eyes on him and Varnerin thought that the intensity of the stare would probably have intimidated a lesser man.

"I do," he said, almost lightly. "If I were to ask you, in your opinion, which is the more dangerous to the Pegasus galaxy: the Wraith or this new army of hybrids Michael is creating, what would be your answer?"

"Are you asking me as a member of the Atlantis Expedition or as I have become?" Lorne raised an eyebrow, and even Varnerin chuckled a little at the irony of such a question.

"Either," he shrugged, "both."

"Why do you wish to know?" Lorne asked.

"Let's just say… I'm interested," he said.

"Let's just say… I don't believe you."

Lorne's mimicry was chilling, even to the professor, and dropping all pretence of light heartedness he said, "Tell me about the Wraith, Major Lorne."

**

Todd was surprised to have felt her summons as soon as he arrived back to the Elder Hive; surprised and a little irritated by it. He had work to do and running to meet with the Queen would be a delay he could ill afford. Still, a summons was a summons, and so he found himself striding down the long hallway that led to the Queen's Chamber.

The drone guards stood aside as he closed in on them, and through the open doorway he could already see the bulk of the Hive Commander, on his knees before the Queen. He watched the way she stalked around him, fingers trailing over his shoulders and his neck, the barely noticeable tremor in the touch.

He realised as he watched how close she was to her zenith. He sighed. A Queen in such a state was even more unpredictable; even more deadly to those around her, and this Queen needed little further excuse for her extreme nature. He took another deep breath, stepped through the open doorway, and after barely two long strides, came to one knee, head bowed, waiting to be acknowledged.

"What is _he_ doing here?"

The rumbling objection of the Hive Commander made him look up, though he kept his head bowed. There would be no question that the Hive Commander would not detect the condition of his Queen. His irritation at the presence of another male commander so close to the Queen, and with such unrestricted access, was understandable. Todd knew that he represented a threat to the certainty of the selection falling in favour of the Hive Commander when the time came. It was not just the Queens who became unpredictable at such times.

Todd sighed – how little he realised the viper they, all of them, held at their breast. He had no doubt that she would see her plan through to completion… and yet… deep within the depths of his mind he could not help but wonder – would she truly keep the germ of her own exalted progeny as it slept within her… or would she, like many others of her kind, come to consider the presence of such a one an untenable threat.

"He is here because he is chief among my scientists…" the Queen answered, and Todd felt her approach, tensed and tried to smother instinct deeper still than such thoughts of filicide, but not before he had wondered at how long he would hold that honour. "…and working on a project that will benefit all Wraith. Besides, he also has first hand knowledge of these _Lanteans_ with whom we find ourselves so much at odds."

Her fingers curled beneath his chin and she raised his head from its bowed position. He exhaled audibly, at her nearness and her touch.

"You have what you need?" she purred as she circled behind him, leaning down to take in the scent and the sense of him.

"I do, my Queen," he answered, his voice a gravelly murmur.

"Good," she sighed and left him to return to the Hive Commander and take his steadying hand as she mounted the steps of her dais, to take her throne. At her right hand, a seat had been arranged and on a lower platform, part way up the step on the left hand side, a second chair had been placed. "Then join us. We have much to discuss."

As Todd took his place on the lower of the two stations, the Queen turned to the Hive Commander to receive his report.

"We have maintained a watch on the Lesser Queen as you instructed," he told her. "Recently, she has taken her Hive to one of her primary feeding grounds. She had remained in the system, in orbit of the planet's moon after their cull was complete."

"What is she doing?" the Queen thoughtfully tilted her head.

"It is possible, my Queen," Todd offered, "that following the assault the Lantean's made on her Hive when she attempted to ensnare them, the Hive is in need of greater repairs than those to which we became privy."

"That was my thought as well," the Hive Commander cut in before Todd could speak further on the matter.

"And yet the Lanteans did not follow them," the Queen said, looking this time in Todd's direction.

"The Humans of Atlantis have been known to follow a Hive to its destruction, yes," he mused, careful to phrase the answer in an offhand kind of way, "However, in this instance, with the arrival of _this_ Hive and our obvious supremacy, their primary goal would have been one of rescue for those of their kind held in captivity. Once both our Hive and that of the lesser Queen left the system, there was no threat to those they sought to protect, therefore, they did not pursue."

"And what of this… woman – the one they call… Teyla?" the Hive Commander asked with contempt.

"What of her?" Todd asked, dismissive of the other Wraith. He was unwilling to reveal that he knew she had once been a captive of the Renegade, and that she was important enough to the Lanteans for them to have given him some of their research into the Hoffan protein in exchange for any intelligence he could provide as to their whereabouts. It seemed so very long ago.

"Every indication I have been able to find suggests that she has been absent from any teams of Human soldiers that have hampered the proper operation of Wraith Hives among our feeding grounds," the Hive Commander said.

"Is it not possible that our Queen… affected her more than we at first believed," Todd answered smoothly, inclining his head respectfully to the Queen. "She would need time to recover, after all."

The Hive Commander locked eyes with Todd, pure malevolent hatred streaming from every pore of his being. Todd felt the push of the Commander's mind against his own – accusatory and threatening – posturing, Todd realised, for the favour of the Queen.

"Enough!" she growled, evidently unimpressed by the gesture.

_=enough= =enough= =enough=_

"It is not the first time I have been unable to feel her presence," she snapped, "and I am certain that _he_ has no little to do with that. On the other hand, if she truly _has_ fallen, then all the better for my purpose." She got to her feet, and both Todd and the Hive Commander followed her example. She descended from the dais with measured steps, the Hive Commander at her side. "My immediate concern is to learn the purpose of my Subordinate-Hive and its Queen. I am particularly interested in the communications you say you have been detecting." She ran her fingers over the Commander's chest as she came to a halt, looking up into his face, and purring seductively, "See to it."

"Yes, my Queen," he answered with the slightest of bows, before, dismissed, he took his leave.

Todd turned to follow, but was halted suddenly by the vice that grasped all of his muscles.

_=wait= =wait= =wait=_

He turned back, his body automatically inclined to put his head lower than the Queen's. She did not move, nor speak until the Hive Commander had turned the corner at the end of the hallway, then she came to Todd, sliding her hands from his belly to the tops of his shoulders and he straightened at her touch.

"You understand more than you have spoken…" she said.

_=of my purpose= =my purpose= =purpose=_

Her voice dripped amused, yet threatening tones over him. He fought to keep his own responses from driving him to act. He was Wraith, yes, but he refused to be a creature of instinct. Besides which, she was right – still, his own, stubborn pride would not allow her to toy with him like that, and as he had once before, he grasped her wrists, and spun her around in his arms, pulling her closer, and holding her through her struggles.

"I understand you have another in mind," he growled against the side of her head. "But first you must subdue him…"

_~to your will~ ~your will~ ~will~_

"Bring me to him," she said, and as her struggles ceased and her manner changed, Todd released her.

"As you wish," he inclined his head in a respectful bow as he stepped back and indicated for her to precede him with a sweep of his hand, "my Queen."

**

Sheppard watched through the view screen of the Jumper as the other, flying beside him, shimmered out of view. Immediately he activated his own Jumper's HUD. The last thing they wanted was for the two of them to collide. That would do Ronon no good.

"Jumper Two, this is Jumper One," he said smoothly, in control. "Edgecombe, take circuit of the area, see what you can find."

"_Understood, sir,_" Edgecombe's voice came back. "_Don't want any nasty surprises._"

"_Colonel Sheppard, this is Atlantis,_" Woolsey sounded almost immediately after Edgecombe, over the com. "_I strongly suggest that before you go in, you do a little recon up in orbit as well. Just to be sure there are no Wraith waiting out there._"

"Way ahead of you, Atlantis," Sheppard answered, and already his Jumper was climbing toward the upper atmosphere.

"_Keep us posted, Colonel,_" Woolsey said. "_We'll keep an active Gate as long as we can._"

"Understood, Sheppard out." He shut off communications with the City as the blue of the atmosphere began to give way to the darkness of space. It always took his breath, the transition between the two. He couldn't help but grin over at the rookie member of his team riding shotgun. "Really something, isn't it."

"Yes, Sir," the man answered. "Never thought I'd see anything like this."

"You just wait until you catch your first glimpse of a Hive ship," Sheppard said, then added hurriedly, "of course, you won't right now, because there's nothing out there and they're all being paranoid about this place being anything to do with the Wraith."

"Of course, Sir," the marine said, but Sheppard saw that his eyes flicked from side to side as he searched the boundaries of what was visible through the view screen, and also that he did not fail to take in the sensor telemetry coming in on the HUD. "Nothing in visual range, or on sensors."

"See, what did I tell you?" Sheppard answered, nodding, and began to turn the Jumper to prepare for re-entry. "No Wraith – nothing to worry about."

**

"You're going to want to shut down that wormhole and shut it down now," McKay said as he all but ran into the control room.

"Doctor McKay?" Woolsey queried, blinking in surprise.

"I routinely monitor for transmissions and other such phenomena coming into Atlantis from off world through an active Gate. I just detected a very strong carrier wave for a specific type of signal that interferes with the normal operation of brain causing it to shift from beta to a rotating pattern of alpha, theta and delta waves, triggering hallucinatory dreamlike states of awareness in which the individual believes he or she is somewhere else experiencing whatever is in their worst nightmares," he said, almost without pausing for breath.

"Excuse me?" Woolsey raised his eyebrows, not at all wanting McKay to actually repeat himself, rather to explain what he meant.

"Look," McKay said, somewhat irritably, "bottom line is we've encountered something like this before. It messes with your head – and it's Wraith. Banks, shut it down."

"Wait," Woolsey told Banks, and she stopped, her hand hovering over the controls.

"We don't have time for waiting," McKay insisted. "The longer we're exposed to that thing, the more likely it is we're all going to go stark raving—"

"Colonel Sheppard, this is Atlantis, respond please," Woolsey said.

"_Go ahead,_" Sheppard's lazy and somewhat complacent voice came from the comm.

"Doctor McKay has detected the presence of Wraith… mind altering… wave signals coming from your location. We're shutting down the Gate to limit base exposure. I strongly suggest you find Ronon, and quickly."

"To hell with that," McKay murmured and then called out, "Sheppard, McKay…"

"_Rodney_," Sheppard said. "_Wraith? There's no trace of 'em anywhere. What are you talking about?_"

"Just shut up and listen to me," McKay said urgently, "Remember M1B-129? Well somewhere on that planet you've got yourselves another one of those… phantom devices, only this one is fully operational with all the bells and whistles I can think of. You need to get the hell out of there."

"_I'm not leaving without Ronon,_" Sheppard said. "_I'm perfectly lucid, and none of my team is affected._"

"For now, yeah," McKay yelped, "but what happens when you lose it and start… shooting each other like you shot me?"

"He shot you?" Woolsey asked, then shook his head and held up his hand to prevent McKay from telling him the story. "Never mind. Colonel Sheppard, I really think that until we've investigated this matter, you should return to Atlantis."

"_No_," Sheppard said, with a true force of conviction. "_Tell McKay_—"

"Still here," McKay muttered.

"—_to keep working on ide—"_

"_Doctor McKay, this is Doctor Keller. I think we have another problem. Whatever you do, don't shut down the Gate."_

**

"Ah, Crap!" Sheppard said, "Maybe I spoke too soon."

He quickly turned the Jumper and increased their speed as they returned toward the area where they left the other team.

"Jumper Two, this is Sheppard, Edgecombe, what have you got?"

"_A small settlement, to the west of the Gate, nestled at the foot of a group of irregular, cliff-like structures, Colonel._" Edgecombe answered. "_No sign of anyone, except the natives, sir._"

"See," Sheppard said, talking mostly to himself, "like I told you, no Wraith."

"I see it, Colonel," the young marine at his side called out and pointed toward where shapes in front of step-like cliffs began to resolve themselves into recognisable buildings.

Sheppard saw it too and immediately began to try and work out a strategy that would get them in, locate and rescue Ronon, and get them out before any of the supposed ill effects began to hamper them – and before any more of them could fall prey to the weapons these people possessed.

**

"Doctor Keller?" Woolsey calling her name drew her attention away from the monitor she was watching. She turned to see Rodney following him into the infirmary, computer tablet in hand, head down, pushing repeatedly against the touchscreen.

"Mister Woolsey," she greeted him and moved away from the comatose marine. "Rodney, thank you for listening to me and coming so soon."

Rodney looked up and said brusquely, "Yes, well, time is an issue here, isn't it?"

"I'm aware that we only have a total of thirty-eight minutes, Rodney," Keller said, feeling slightly hurt by his tone, even though she knew it was nothing but the way he was, and there was nothing personal meant by it.

"In thirty-eight minutes, everyone on this base is going to be a slathering idiot," he said, and looked up from the tablet at last, "unless we shut down the Gate."

"I don't think so," she said.

"Pardon me, Jennifer, and no offense, but, I rather doubt you unde—"

"Did you find something, Doctor?" Woolsey cut in.

"Several things, actually," she said and gestured toward the marines. "These men are in an artificially induced unconscious state. Their brainwaves are alternating between the three states in which a human exists during sleep, with unnaturally long periods of dreaming, beta wave activity between, and then incredible periods of delta waves following that. When we brought them back here, though, while the Gate was inactive, every single one of them began to experience a slow shutting down of their brain activity."

"You mean their brains started to die?" Woolsey asked.

"I mean they started to shut down, yes," she said. "When Colonel Sheppard went back to the planet, the Gate was active and suddenly the activity picked up again, they went back into the strange… cycle they're in and—"

"Okay, so not gibbering idiots, but brain dead coma patients," Rodney cut in. "The point is—"

"The point is, Rodney, it's artificial, yes, but it's not random, or universal – otherwise why hasn't everyone fallen victim to this?" she pressed.

"Well, it's length of exposure, isn't it?" he snapped fearfully, "which is why – as I keep saying – it's important to shut down the Stargate!"

"No, Rodney, it's the weapon," she said, "the one Colonel Sheppard brought back, I'm certain of it, and I'm equally as certain that something in that signal, that you're so bothered by it's stopping you from thinking straight, is maintaining the artificial rhythm of the brainwaves, for whatever reasons."

McKay frowned and turned his attention to his computer tablet again. After several moments of reading and pressing, and even more frowning, his eyes widened and he looked up first at Keller and then toward Woolsey.

"Oh my God, she's right!" he exclaimed, "I can't believe I missed that. Right there, hidden in the carrier wave oscillation. Jennifer, I'm sorry, I—"

"It's all right, Rodney," she smiled at him briefly. "Your past experience with the Wraith device made you overcautious, that's all."

"The question is: what are we going to do about it?" Woolsey asked. "As you have said, Doctor Keller, we can't just cut them off from it."

"And I can't waken them," she said, and the rush of uselessness she felt in her ability to help these men only strengthened. "I've tried everything, and as soon as we have to shut down the Gate—"

"Maybe… if we took them back to the planet, established a kind of… field hospital," McKay suggested. "If we could locate the device, maybe there's some kind of setting that would be some kind of a wake up call."

"Wouldn't that be dangerous?" Keller said, "What if these people came with more of those stun things?"

"We'd have to have a defensive… perimeter," Rodney said, "But if it's the only way to save these men, and to save Ronon."

Both she and Rodney looked at Woolsey, who stood frowning, looking over at the marines. He was clearly thinking.

"Do it," he said finally. "Take Captain Warsh and his team as your military support, at least until Colonel Sheppard can join you."

"Thank you, Mister Woolsey," Jennifer felt a flush of relief and gripped the base commander's arm for a moment.

"Don't thank me yet," he said seriously. "If there's even a _hint_ of the Wraith, beyond this device of theirs, I'm afraid you're going to have to abandon these men, and make your way back to Atlantis. Do I make myself clear?"

Keller fixed him with a terrible stare, and pulled her hand away from his arm. "Perfectly," she said. "You're more afraid of the Wraith than you are of our reputation in losing Atlantis personnel."

**

Sheppard flattened himself against the building on one side of the settlement, close to the large building in which he had detected Ronon's subspace transceiver. He looked across to the other side of the village, to watch as the shadowy crawl of Edgecombe's team moved into position.

It was a simple strategy, storm the settlement with air support from the two cloaked Jumpers; take out anyone that so much as pointed one of the stunners in their direction; get Ronon, and get out.

Cautiously, moving slowly so as not to attract attention, he keyed his headset mic, and speaking quietly, ordered, "All teams, this is Sheppard, sound off."

"_Ground Two, standing by._" Edgecombe's soft voice came back almost immediately, while the man gave a visual sign from across the clear space at the centre of the settlement, where inhabitants were milling back and forth as they went about their daily life.

"_Jumper One, in position._"

"_Jumper Two ready, Colonel._"

"All right," he took a breath, "on my mark. Three, two, one – mark."

He rolled around the side of the building into the open, leading his team, and firing a short burst of P90 fire into the air, before bringing the weapon to bear on the frightened civilians.

"Everybody down!" he yelled authoritatively, his call echoed by the many members of both teams. "Down on the ground now, and nobody gets hurt!"

He caught a blur of motion from the doorway of one of the buildings, even as, all around him, the inhabitants of the settlement were hurrying to obey, and quickly turned his weapon that way.

"Drop it!" he instructed. The man did not. In fact, he extended the weapon, taking aim in Sheppard's direction. Sheppard pulled the trigger on his own weapon, aiming at the outstretched arm, and the man fell back against the door, the stunner falling from his hand. "Down on the ground!"

The would-be assailant complied, all but falling to lie on his belly in the dirt outside the building.

"Nobody makes an aggressive move, no one else gets hurt," Sheppard called. "Those inside: come out slowly with your hands where we can see 'em."

One or two more shots rang out from the marines in Edgecombe's team, as some of the natives tried to act in defence of their home. Sheppard didn't really blame them. He would have done the same. Most of the inhabitants, however, seemed to be cooperating with his instructions, no doubt in fear of the display of martial force.

Finally the door to the large structure ahead, where he knew they had Ronon, opened, and a tall, rather stately dressed woman came out into the weak sunshine.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, walking fearlessly toward Sheppard, even as he turned his weapon to bear against her. "Who are you?"

"Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard," he said. "That's far enough. You are?"

"I am Atterna Rowf. I lead these people," she said, spreading her hands to either side of her.

"You have one of my people," he said.

"And he has been well cared for. I assure you, no harm has come to him," Rowf answered.

"You bring him, and his equipment, out here now," Sheppard said, "and we'll take him, and leave you alone… so long as none of your people get frisky, nothing bad needs to happen here." He keyed his headset mic, "Jumpers, go."

Gasps sounded from several of the natives who were huddled on the ground as the Jumpers above and behind him decloaked, displaying the full extent of their military strength.

Atterna Rowf nodded briefly with a sigh. "Very well, Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, you will have your friend." She turned her head slightly, and called, "Bring him outside."

"Thank you," Sheppard said over the top of his P90, not without a hint of sarcasm. "It's been a pleasure."

**

Vega was pacing back and forth across Todd's laboratory.

His cruiser had been back for _hours_, he should have been here already and she wasn't sure how much longer she could get away with staying here before she was called back to her duties.

She tried to sit, instead of to pace, perching herself on the edge of his cot, but she could not be still, when every moment her mind was racing with the dark possibilities of what could have delayed his return to the laboratory.

Perhaps the Hive Commander had found some evidence against him, against them both and was even now punishing him at the behest of the Queen. It did not register in her frightened mind that had this been the case, then she, too, would more than likely have been hauled before the Queen to answer for her crimes – if not already dead.

She heard him before she saw him. She had come to recognise the sounds of his movement without even realising that she had. She spun around to face the door as he came through it, and lifted his right hand to close it behind him.

She looked him over. He looked weary, and there was a slight red tint behind the yellow-gold of his eyes, as though he was hungry, but she could see no obvious injuries. Relief flooded through her like the water in the creek back home on a rainy day, and she started to cross the room toward him.

"Todd—"

"Stay where you are, Alicia. Do not come any closer." He stopped at the side of the workbench and leaned on it, breathing deeply, even as he held out his hand to signal that she should stop.

She froze at his words, and frowned as she watched him visibly fighting with something, struggling to pull himself together.

"What's wrong?" she asked. Tears sprang into her eyes and she took a hesitant step in his direction. Perhaps there was something wrong that she had missed when she had looked him over, something she didn't know about the Wraith. A terrible thought struck her then: what if he had tried to feed on someone like her – a survivor of the Hoffan plague? "Tell me!"

"I have just come from the Queen," he rumbled. "I cannot guarantee that you are safe from me."

She blinked. Then she frowned and took another hesitant step.

"Alicia," he warned.

"You won't hurt me," she said to him, but even to her own ears she sounded unconvincing. "Don't be ridiculous. You—"

"You do not understand," he said softly. "At a time like this, being in close proximity to a Queen can drive Wraith to madness. A commander among Wraith, those of us with individuality…" he paused to take a breath, "…those of us with the ability to…"

His voice trailed away into nothing, and he closed his eyes. He stood very still, and Vega began to worry even more as she tried to make sense of everything that he had only halfway said, and everything else that had gone before.

He swayed slightly, and before she knew what she had done she crossed the rest of the distance between them and took hold of his wrist. She meant only to lead him to one of the stools, to sit him down before he fell. If this was something the Queen had done to him, there was no telling how long he would suffer, or by what he was stricken.

As her fingers closed around the cuff of his jacket, his own hand fastened like a vice around her wrist and pulled her closer, twisting her arm behind her back. His right hand mantled, and started toward her. His eyes flashed open, but they were still slightly glazed.

"Todd, stop! Stop!" she struggled with him, futile even in this worrying, slightly disconnected state, as he was far stronger than she could ever hope to master. In the end, pinned as she was, she did the only thing she could to try and shock him out of his stupor.

Her free hand flashed up under his incoming arm and she grabbed his chin, pulling his face down toward hers. Then, standing on the tips of her toes, all but falling against him, she pressed a sudden, fierce kiss against his lips.

It was harsh, with little feeling – though even as her lips met his she felt her colour rising, burning even to the tips of her ears – and it was brief, but she knew it had worked when, as she pulled away, almost breathless with her own audacity, his grip on her wrist eased. His right hand paused, centimetres from her chest, before settling gently, closer to her shoulder as he let go of her wrist altogether, moving to hold her gently, to steady her instead.

"Stop," she whispered shakily, and swallowed hard.

"That was… quick thinking on your part," he murmured, and she was relieved, almost to the point of feeling tearful, to hear the slightly amused tone in his voice. She knew he was himself again.

She swallowed again to try and find her voice.

"Yeah, well it seemed better than the only other option I could come up with," she said, and found herself wondering if a swift knee to the groin would have worked in any case. Suddenly overcome with profound embarrassment, the full realisation of what she'd done hitting her, she twisted out of his grasp and walked away from him, stopping in the middle of the laboratory to catch her breath, try to compose herself again.

He followed her. The warmth of his hands came down on her shoulders, and she couldn't help but shiver as he called her name into the awkward silence she had placed between them.

"Alicia—"

"It's all right," she said. "I know she did something to you, and you weren't yourself."

He let out the low rumbling that she had come to know was his sound of agreement, before he said, "I told you that the Queen seeks evolution. She has been… preparing herself, plans to further her own bloodline with the production of a Queen, her… daughter, as you would say."

She turned to him then, frowning. Almost angrily, accusatorily, she asked, "You didn't!"

Todd blinked, then looked at her seriously for a moment before he put back his head, and laughed.

"What's funny?" she demanded, pulling away from him and going to sit on the side of his cot. She was irritated, and wasn't sure if it was at herself, for being upset that he might have succumbed and mated with the Queen, or at him for laughing at the suggestion. Didn't he think he was good enough?

"My dear Alicia," he said, sobering quickly, "she has someone far removed from me in mind for that task, I can assure you."

She looked up at him then, meeting his eyes, and the worried expression she saw there. He sighed, and came to her, unfastening the buckle on his coat, before sitting beside her, and reaching to take her hands. She looked at her hands in his, then up into his face, tilted as it was, as he was watching her curiously.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I have no right to be angry with you, just…"

She broke off, and shrugged.

"Just?" he prompted.

"I was worried about you," she swallowed, and shivered, remembering the reason for her coming to him in the first place. "The… the Hive Commander cornered me." A frown appeared on Todd's face, and before she stopped herself she freed one of her hands and ran the tips of her fingers over the frown lines. "I'm all right," she told him, "but he's on to us. He… he knows."

"What did he say?" he asked, and he started to get up, to finish unfastening his coat; to toss it away as though it was soiled and reeking.

Vega blinked, and wrapped her arms around herself a little as he slipped it off and stood in only the sleeveless vest he wore beneath, that looked as though it was made of some kind of linen, and his leather pants.

Swallowing she said, "He warned me that when we slip up; whenever he has evidence against us, he will expose us for the liars we are."

"Troubling," he said, cocking his head to the side, "but not insurmountable."

"That's easy for you to say," she said, and realising she was staring, she turned her face away toward the bulkhead. "You don't have to go back there to Ms Looney-Toons, and Her Royal Wraithness."

"But you do," he said, his voice little more than a soft grumble, ignoring her sarcasm. "In order to allay suspicions, you must return to your duties, but first… I would like your help… if you are willing?"

**

"_Sheppard, this is McKay. Where are you?_"

Sheppard couldn't help but glance back at the immobile Satedan, lying in the back of the Jumper, watched over by the marines of his team.

The natives, in the face of the overwhelming display of firepower, had quickly done as he'd asked and brought Ronon to them together with his blaster, and the few other weapons he had been carrying. It had gone smoothly – like clockwork, and these things _never_ happened that way. He'd just been waiting for the spanner to come flying at his head.

"Here it comes," he murmured under his breath, before he answered, "McKay – we're inbound, with Ronon. ETA," he paused to check the HUD, "six minutes."

"_Negative, Colonel,_" McKay's voice came back over the radio, and Sheppard frowned.

"What do you mean, 'negative, Colonel,' we're on our way back to the Gate. We have Ronon and everything is A-Okay."

"_I'm afraid not,_" McKay answered, "_There've been… complications. I'll explain properly when you get here, but for now we've had to establish an off-world field hospital for those injured by those weapons. Adjust your heading to bring you in West-south-west of the Gate. You'll see us._"

"I'll say there have been complications," he grumbled, but turned the Jumper in the direction of the field hospital, easily locating it with the Jumper's sensors. "Why can't these things ever go according to plan?"


	3. Act 3

**Act 3**

It wasn't the first time he had woken from unconsciousness or serious injury, but it was one of the most comfortable.

Senselessness gradually resolved itself into sound and sensation; the steady bleep of a monitor, a soft, heavy warmth over his chilled body. Through his closed eyelids he was aware of the brightness of lights.

He took in a huge breath and started to try and sit up.

"Easy, Ronon," a female voice close by his shoulder said quietly, and a hand pressed against him to stop him from moving. "You're safe."

"Teyla…" he said. His throat felt gravelly and slightly sore. "Michael, he—"

"Colonel Sheppard said he barely got you out in time." He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at the confused face of Doctor Keller. "I'm sorry, if Teyla was still aboard…"

Her voice trailed off mid-apology.

The too familiar surroundings of the Atlantis infirmary faded a little as his memory overlaid the recall of the scout ship powering away from the Dart Bay.

"Michael took her," he said.

"Then at least she's still alive," Jennifer said firmly.

"What happened?" He stopped struggling with her, lying back with a sigh. "How long have I—"

"You were badly hurt. Sheppard said he had a hunch something had gone wrong. He went in to get you."

"And the ship?"

"Daedalus opened fire on the Hive. It was badly damaged, if not destroyed," Keller told him, "but _you_ need to be resting and not worrying about that. I was about to change your dressings."

_Ronon lunged forward, with his knife leading, meaning to drive the point of the blade deep into Michael's heart._

_At first he thought that Michael had punched him in the gut, winded him badly, but then, as the white hot lance travelled from the middle of his belly into the deepest part of his brain, he knew it was more than that. He tasted blood in his mouth, and glancing down, saw that he had, in trying to reach Michael with his own knife, all but walked onto the Wraith-Human hybrid's blade._

"He stabbed me," he said, his eyes glazing in memory.

"Who?" Keller asked. She wheeled over a steel trolley, on which she had her medical equipment, and pulled on a pair of surgical gloves before she began to lift the hospital gown he was wearing away from his wounded stomach to remove the existing dressing.

"Michael," he spat the name as though it was poison and she glanced up at him from her careful examination of his, now uncovered, wound.

"Yeah, well, it was quite deep, but I've managed to fix the damage," she told him, and began to carefully press his belly and the area around the wound. As the pressure of her fingers settled lower on his body, closer to his groin, he tensed, breathing in deeply against the awareness of her hands touching him. The scent of her shampoo washed over him, triggering a memory, only adding to the awkward, uncomfortable feeling he suddenly experienced at her nearness.

She looked up at him again. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?"

_"Well, maybe we could pass the time by getting to know each other better," Keller said as he realised that, with the doors locked down under the quarantine, they might well be there for a while._

_Ronon narrowed his eyes at her, suspicious of what she could mean._

_"What do you have in mind?" he asked._

_She looked up at him and her eyes suddenly went wide. She must have seen his suspicions of her intended advances toward him, and seemed profoundly embarrassed in the realisation. Perhaps he was reading her all wrong. Perhaps he was reading himself wrong._

_"Oh, I, I mean, I didn't… you know, I meant… just, like, talk," she stammered, and gave a nervous laugh. "I didn't mean…Yeah! So, anyway, um, let's talk!"_

"What?" he asked, almost too quickly, then realising what she was asking, shook his head, "No, just… sensitive there."

She looked down at the position of her hand, and he saw her flush with the pinkness of understanding what he meant. She lifted her fingers away from where they were resting.

"Sorry, just…" she reached for the new dressing, ready to cover the wound again and then shrugged a little bit. "I was worried about bruising or other damage we might not have detected initially."

He shook his head, "It's all right, Jennifer. You're just being thorough."

He watched her as she nodded and gave him a faintly embarrassed smile, before bending to her work in tending to him. His own awkwardness, faded only slightly, flared again when, watching her so closely, he couldn't help but comparing her with Melena. It was not for the first time…

_"You remind me of someone I used to know." he said, and the memory, still painful, made him take in a deep breath. "She put way too much pressure on herself."_

_Keller walked closer to him then, and asked softly, "Someone from Sateda?"_

_"Yeah." He daren't say much more, for fear of choking on any other answer he might have given._

_"Who was she?" Keller asked softly._

…and for anyone that had known her, it was hard not to compare the way Melena had looked and acted, with the woman that was Jennifer Keller. There were subtle similarities in appearance, but it was mostly in their manner – and this had strengthened even more, particularly of late, in her attitude toward Woolsey and Varnerin – that she reminded him of Melena most strongly.

He sighed softly, and felt the familiar stirring of a deep, biting ache inside of him as he thought of Melena and who she had been to him. That he still felt this way; still felt the loss as freshly, sometimes, as though it had been only yesterday, only proved to him that he was not yet ready for that kind of relationship, and made him doubt that he would _ever_ be. Melena had been his beating heart…

_"She was someone I cared about," he answered her, clearing his throat awkwardly. "She was killed during the siege."_

_"I'm sorry," Keller said._

_"Yeah. I wanted her to leave but she chose to stay behind and help the others." He gave a little cough again – another awkward attempt to shift the lump that had settled in the back of his throat. Terrible recrimination joined the blockage, threatening to choke him. As much to himself as to Keller, he said, "Should have forced her to go."_

_"It's not your fault," Keller told him softly as though she could read what was going through his mind. "She chose to stay. Don't put that blame on yourself."_

…his soul – his salvation.

Now she was gone, irrevocably lost from all but his memory, as was the only other person that could ever have come close to saving him – though in an entirely different way. He had failed Teyla just as he had failed Melena.

He'd had the chance – several chances – to end the menace before it had even begun…

_The mesmerising hiss that was coming from the Wraith as he pinned Teyla against the wall of the Wraith laboratory incensed Ronon. There was no hesitancy in his action. He pulled the trigger and the Wraith before Teyla jerked suddenly, and fell unconscious to the floor._

_His concern for Teyla manifested itself in anger. "What the hell were you thinking, Teyla?" he snapped and grabbed the Wraith by the wrist, ready to move him away from his friend._

…in fact he couldn't count the number of times he'd had Michael on the business end of his blaster, including this last time.

"Should have killed him," he growled softly.

"What?" Keller asked, looking up. "Oh, you mean Michael?"

He nodded, and smiling softly, right into his eyes, she gave a bit of a chuckle. It left him breathless with the vulnerability inside of him, the doubt and the drawing ache that answered from that place that was still full of the loss of the life that once inhabited it.

"You always were a bit of an action hero," Keller said, and she gently straightened his clothing and covered him once more with the blanket.

"I just don't like seeing my friends getting hurt," he answered, his voice thick with unexpressed emotion as he met Jennifer's eyes. He couldn't miss the flash of something more than professional concern that shone there.

_"I had you wrong," he said, and when she looked up at him in query, he smiled. "When you first came here, I thought you were weak – that you didn't belong."_

Had that been true, or just something he'd said to keep the conversation going between them. It wasn't his strong point, but he'd wanted to try. It had worried him that, in his attempt, he had hurt her – or so he'd thought at the time as she regaled him with the story of her life – of all the things she had missed. He'd wanted to comfort her.

As he looked into her eyes then, he thought he still saw the ghost of those failures she'd named in the tale of her life before coming to Atlantis and it spoke to him now, just as it had then…

_"Yeah, well, blowing up that tank – you really showed yourself," he said._

_She smiled at him and said, "But it didn't work."_

_"That's not the point," he told her, and in that moment it truly wasn't the point. In that moment he realised that, with Jennifer, there was the possibility that he could move on, move past the constant pain he felt._

_Ronon moved closer and she laid her head against his shoulder. He looked down at her, and rested his head against hers, his face against her hair. _

_She looked up at him then, and slowly they moved toward each other. He felt the light touch of her breath against his lips in the instant before they met hers…_

It wouldn't be fair – not to him and certainly not to Jennifer, and he _did_ like her; did care about her – perhaps even _for_ her, but until he had laid his own ghosts to rest, he would never, _could_ never, be to anyone as he had been to his Melena.

He reached out and caught her hand just as she began to move away. He wanted to tell her, to make her understand everything that he realised; everything that he felt, because it also wasn't fair to her to keep her waiting, in hope, for something that might never happen.

"Jennifer," he started. "Listen, I—"

The wailing of the city's alarms preceded the sudden explosion that rocked the walls around them and sent debris flying into the infirmary.

Ignoring the pain, he pulled Keller closer, wrapped his arms around her and threw them both to the ground, covering her protectively with his body.

"How's he doing, Doc?" Sheppard asked as he ducked inside the private section of the field hospital in which Ronon was being treated.

Keller shook her head. "I'm sorry, Colonel, it's just the same as the others. Nothing I can do will wake him. He's still stuck in the same unnatural sleep, in some kind of intense dream state," she said and sighed. "I had held out a small sliver of hope that, because he's a native of this galaxy, he might have some kind of… resistance to some of this, but…"

Sheppard sighed and looked across the room to where McKay was studying the waveform, and imputing information into his computer tablet. McKay looked up at him in the same moment.

"There's no doubt about it, Sheppard," he said in an urgent voice, "whatever is affecting Ronon and the others definitely originates from some kind of Wraith source." He held up his hand to stop Sheppard from interrupting, as he had opened his mouth to do. "I believe you. I believe you. They're nowhere around, but… what _I'm_ saying is that the device that's sending this signal is of Wraith manufacture and design."

"Well then we just triangulate the signal, find the device and deactivate it," Sheppard said.

"Not as easy as that," McKay said, shaking his head.

"Yes it is," Sheppard argued. He pursed his lips, irritated that even when they were on worlds without a Wraith presence, the wretched creatures dogged their every advance. He continued, his voice growling in anger, "C4 will turn it off if you can't."

"If you do that, Colonel," Keller said, a look of deep concern on her face, "there will be nothing we can do that will save these men."

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking between the doctor and the scientist.

"By now, these men have become dependent on the presence of the signal in that carrier wave to stimulate the continuation of their brain activity," McKay offered.

"Dependent?" Sheppard said, "How? Why?"

"As far as I've been able to tell," Keller said, "being hit by one of those weapons you brought back with you causes a massive misfiring of the synapses. This overloads certain, usually dormant, portions of the brain which then just… inhibit the brain's natural ability to regulate its own electrical activity."

"As far as you've been able to tell?" Sheppard said with a raised eyebrow. It sounded like that was a pretty specific diagnosis to him.

"My guess is," McKay said, "if we—" He stopped and Sheppard noticed the look that Keller shot McKay, before he started again. "If Jennifer were able to take an EEG of Wraith neural activity, I suspect she'd find a high degree of activity in the corresponding areas of their brains."

"Actually, records of Teyla's brain activity, taken by Doctor Beckett, during the times she was attempting to use her _gift_ to contact the Wraith on the Hive, after Carson first discovered her Wraith DNA, show this quite definitively," Keller confirmed.

"So what are you saying?" Sheppard asked. "How are we supposed to wake these men?"

"We need to find a way to reverse the signal causing the overload and return those areas of the brain to a dormant state," McKay said.

"That way," Keller added, "their own brain activity will reassert itself, and the men will be able to wake."

"You think," Sheppard said.

"No." Keller shook her head, sounding sure of herself. "I'm certain."

After a moment, Sheppard nodded. "All right. How do we do this?"

"Until I see the device," McKay said, "I won't know."

"Then we better find this thing," Sheppard said, and looking over at Ronon, he added, "and fast."

**

"You're sure?" Sheppard asked as McKay returned from scanning for the device.

"No," McKay answered sarcastically, "that's why I've just spent the last ten minutes explaining to you the complexities of finding such a device in a planet as riddled with subterranean caves as this one." With a withering look in Sheppard's direction he added in clipped tones, "Of _course_ I'm sure!"

"Well, that could be a problem," Sheppard said with exaggerated patience. "Because according to the geophys survey the engineers took from a higher orbit once you started talking 'subterranean' structures, the most viable entrance to that particular cave system is bang in the middle of our friends' settlement."

He stabbed his finger onto a point on the hastily constructed map, and then, when McKay leaned down to look, stood back and folded his arms, waiting for the implications of that to filter into McKay's mind.

"Ah," McKay said. Evidently it had. "I don't suppose these people are likely to let us just… walk through and—"

Sheppard shook his head.

"Didn't think so," McKay said.

"Which leave us with—" Sheppard unfolded his arms, ready to discuss another tactical assault against the native settlement. A cry from outside the Jumper in which he'd erected his command post cut him off.

"Colonel Sheppard!" Lieutenant Edgecombe came into view outside the rear hatch of the Jumper. "Colonel, you need to see this."

The lieutenant gestured further out into the area occupied by their field hospital. Frowning, he moved to join the marine, with McKay at his side.

"What—" he started to ask, but stopped as he saw a group of perhaps twenty of the local inhabitants, including Atterna Rowf, approaching the defensive perimeter. They held their arms to the sides, open and empty.

Rowf evidently spotted him and bringing the rest of her group to a halt, called out, "Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard, my people and I come in the spirit of fostering communications between our two peoples. We are unarmed and wish only to talk."

"This is new," he said, a quiet aside to McKay. Stepping forward he peered more closely at the would-be ambassadors. The group was made up of men and women, both relatively young and older, and as their leader had said, at least as far as he could tell, they were indeed unarmed. "That's one hell of a turn-around from the first time our peoples met," he called out.

Atterna Rowf took a step away from her group, toward the armed marines guarding the perimeter, and gave Sheppard a wry smile.

"We have since seen the error of our ways," she said in a quiet voice that none the less carried across the space between them.

"I'll bet you have," Sheppard murmured, but called out to the woman, "Peace talks – that's what you want?"

"My people are vulnerable here," she told him. "It is why we made our attack, in defence of ourselves before you could prove yourself the stronger. We seek help; protection… and I am certain there are things which we can offer in trade for such a relationship."

He sighed. He couldn't afford to take her words at face value, even if they did make a lot of sense to him, and it was true that they had offered very little resistance that could not have been explained away by fear of greater forces, when he had led the assault to retrieve Ronon.

He felt McKay move behind him, stepping closer, and he half turned his head to acknowledge the scientist's desire to speak.

"Much as I hate to say it, we should probably contact Woolsey before you make any decision about this," he said. "You know that, right?"

He nodded. "I was just thinking—" he said, but stopped as Rodney tapped his arm with something. Looking down he saw that McKay was holding out the control crystal from the Gate's DHD. It had been removed when they established the field hospital, to disable the Gate and prevent any unwelcome surprises.

"It might make getting at that device easier," McKay said.

Again Sheppard nodded. It made sense. "All right," he said, "but in the meantime, go over the results of the geophysical survey with the engineers – see if you can find _another_ way in – just in case this all falls apart."

"Right," McKay said, and after handing over the crystal, hurried away, presumably to do as suggested. Sheppard turned his attention back to the woman who still stood, patiently waiting, and fearless in spite of the weapons pointed in her direction.

"I'll need to contact the rest of my people," he said, refusing to acknowledge Woolsey as his superior, "let them know of your proposal – discuss it with them."

"We are a patient people," she answered with a nod. "We will wait."

"All right," he started to turn away.

"In the meantime," she called, halting his movement, "may I ask a boon?"

He turned back to her, waiting to see what she would ask. When she didn't immediately speak, he prompted, "I'm listening."

"My people and I have walked long and hard to reach you. Many of us have depleted our supplies of water on the journey," she said.

"Lieutenant Edgecombe," he called, not waiting for her to actually ask. He saw little harm in showing them basic human compassion, especially as he knew they had more than enough to spare. Edgecombe saluted as he reached his side. "See to it that these people are given basic provisions – water, field rations, and provide them with blankets. Have one of the medics go over with you; see if there's anything else they might need."

He saw Rowf nod, and knew he had made his mark even before she spoke. "You are generous, Lieu—"

"Sheppard," he told her, realising she could not distinguish between which was his rank, and which his name. "My name is Sheppard."

"Thank you… Sheppard," she said with a smile, before she returned to her people, freeing him to take a defensive team to the Gate with him, to contact Woolsey.

**

The musky oils were beginning to make Vega's head ache, but she continued to work her fingers over the arm and shoulder of the Queen, as Hanna did on her other side. The Queen was virtually purring with the pleasure they were giving her.

Vega's mind was a whirl of questions and fears. She felt more and more insecure and confused with every development; every interaction she shared with Todd only adding to the slightly insane feeling with which her confusion left her.

_She twisted out of his grasp and walked away from him, stopping in the middle of the laboratory to catch her breath, try to compose herself again. He followed her. The warmth of his hands came down on her shoulders, and she couldn't help but shiver as he called her name into the awkward silence her actions had placed between them._

_"Alicia—"_

_"It's all right," she said. "I know she did something to you, and you weren't yourself."_

She wondered if _she_ had been herself either. Grabbing him by the chin and kissing him had been the last thing she ever would have done. Even under such circumstances, she couldn't believe herself; had woken suddenly that morning, panicked from the memory of it… what must he have thought? What had _she_ been thinking?

"Something troubles you?"

She jumped as the Queen tapped the back of her hand. She had, in her thinking, stopped massaging the oil into her mistress' skin. Her heart lurched and she felt suddenly nauseous in the fear that the Queen might already have overheard her thoughts.

_"My… demonstration was of the danger the _Queen_ poses to you. How she can take the very thoughts from your mind…"_

Michael's words echoed through her memory, but try as she might, she could not stop herself from worrying over the things the Queen might have seen and felt from her… the warm, firm press of his lips, resistant in his surprise, against her own… and the strangeness of it… and of realising under different circumstances… She took a breath…

_"…I spent too long in her presence," Todd said softly as he gathered fresh clothing from the room to which he led Vega. "I must bathe to be free of the stench of her need…" He let out a rumbling growl, and started to reach for the fastening of his leather pants…_

She felt the Queen beginning to push at her mind, but, in the same moment, saw out of the corner of her eye that the Hive Commander was approaching the chamber. She finally answered the Queen's query.

"Nothing, my Queen, only…" she gestured slightly toward the door, "…I see your Commander approaching."

"My Queen!" He did not wait for her to acknowledge him, and as the press of the Queen's mind lessened from hers, Vega felt the echoing flush of her irritation at his audacity.

"Your reason for interrupting my peace and ministrations at the hands of my maidens had better be a good one, my Commander," she growled, and waved Vega and Hanna away so that she could rise.

"I have information concerning the Subordinate-Hive," he told her, and in a display of pure arrogance, got to his feet even before the Queen had reached him. "We have traced their transmission to a small world, well outside of any culling grounds."

The Queen's anger at his disturbance was halted in its tracks by the news, and as she retreated to her place at the side of the chamber, Vega thought she caught a flash of conceited pride in his eyes.

"You have investigated this world?" the Queen asked, pressing herself almost coquettishly close to him.

"The world possesses a Ring," he told her, "but—"

The Queen's head snapped up to regard him in returning anger at the words.

"But?" she demanded. "You dare—"

"My Queen," he said hurriedly, "naturally I sent a scout ship to investigate, however, when the pilot reached the nearest world on which there is a Ring to enable him to travel there, it would not activate. It appears that there is something blocking access to the Ring on the world in question."

The Queen's eyes narrowed, her manner once more changing, this time to one of concern. She began to pace away from him, her hands clawing the air at her sides as she was quite obviously thinking; running the information through her mind.

"How much longer before the Hive is able to re-enter hyperspace?" she demanded.

"Not very long, my Queen. It is why I brought the matter to your attention," he said. "I felt certain that, given this development, you might wish to investigate the matter… personally."

She rounded on the Hive Commander. "You presume much," she snapped, and then softening, added, "however, on this occasion, your instinct was correct. As soon as the Hive is recovered, set its course to take me to this world."

_=I will discover what this queen intends= =queen intends= =intends=_

Vega felt her head would explode as the Queen's angry thought rang clearly through the chamber. For his part, the Hive Commander gave a swift bow, and beat a hasty retreat.

"Attend me!" the Queen demanded, practically storming toward the door behind her throne, and both Hanna and Vega hurried to comply.

**

Todd growled softly and moved along the line of alcoves that were now inhabited by the cowering humans he had brought back from his recent foray to a world, the location of which he had… persuaded the Renegade to reveal to him. He almost smiled, looking on his prize for a most… satisfying contest.

_As soon as The Renegade woke he began to struggle against the restraints._

_Todd stood back, well out of The Renegade's current line of sight, looking down on the creature that was left in the wake of the effects of his serum. Caught part-way between Human, Wraith and their ancestral progenitor, he was a sorry sight indeed. Still, with repeated applications of the serum, it might be possible to reduce the undesirable appearance._

_For that, however, this pathetic creature would need the strength to survive the searing agony Todd was sure the changes wrought… and to ensure that, The Renegade would need to feed… unless…_

_Todd tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at his own thought. Was he prepared to go to such lengths for this Queen's agenda? On the other hand, if The Renegade died, and she discovered that it was through omission of his own care for the one that had once been a worthy adversary, he doubted that he would survive such a moment._

_With a slight growling sigh, he stepped forward, making his presence known._

_"Release me!" The Renegade cried in anger, turning his head to snarl in Todd's direction._

_"It is for your own good that you are restrained; your own safety," he answered as calmly as he could, in fact trying to make his voice sound… compassionate. "It is not by my choice."_

_"I will _kill_ you for this!" The Renegade snarled._

_"I do not think so," Todd answered, leaning over him, to look into his eyes. "We are not finished yet."_

_The Renegade snarled again, redoubling his efforts to free himself, like some kind of rabid animal, Todd mused. He could almost feel the terrible fever streaming off the Renegade. As if reading his thoughts, though Todd knew he was not, The Renegade cried out in his agony._

_"It burns!"_

_"How soon you forget," Todd crooned, and tilted his head slightly. "It need not. If only you would do as you must…" His last two words were an angry roar into the Renegade's face, and accompanied by a crushing press against the intense distress he knew was burning inside the creature's mind. "…and feed."_

_~feed~ ~feed~ ~feed~_

_"No." Desperation entered The Renegade's movements, and through teeth gritted against the pain he growled, "I will not."_

_"Then, since the Queen has charged me with the responsibility for your care, you leave me no choice," Todd said, and moved his feeding hand from where he was leaning against it; leaning over The Renegade, to press it to the creature's chest._

_"Don't." The Renegade struggled beneath his touch. Anger, agony and panic combined in his repeated cry. "DON'T!"_

_As Todd took a breath, preparing himself mentally as well as physically, a powerful blow struck his partially locked elbow, and sent him reeling away from the table. Something warm splashed against his cheek, and as he fought to regain his balance, he wiped at it with his hand. It came away, stained with splashes of blood._

_He turned in disbelief to see the Renegade slap his hand against the release switch on the head of the table, and roll out of the restraints to try and find his feet, completely ignoring the blood that wept from the gash in his wrist where he had forced it free of the restraint._

_"Impressive," Todd breathed, then taunted him, spreading his hands to either side, inviting attack as the Renegade hissed at him. After only a moment's hesitation, the creature pushed himself away from the table, fury plainly written over his face._

_Todd stood his ground, watching curiously, ready to move in an instant if he had to, and when, at the second step, the Renegade's deformed leg gave way beneath him, and unbalanced him to send him spilling toward the ground, Todd caught him, and lowered him almost gently._

_"But not enough," he said, returning his hand to its position against the Renegade's chest. There he paused and fixed him with a steady look. "I need to know how you did it; where you found your solution."_

_The Renegade's nostrils flared, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession under Todd's hand._

_"…can't…" he gasped._

_"I think you can," Todd said. "Otherwise I will have no choice but to give you the strength you need… to take the treatment again."_

_"No," he whispered._

_"Then tell me."_

_The Renegade closed his eyes, and breathed out a soft, resigned sigh, before he said, "Eighteen, zero-five, forty-eight – negative thirty, twenty-five, twenty-six."_

_"Spatial Coordinates – very good," Todd said and climbing to his feet he gestured to the two drones waiting by the door. They crossed the room to take the Renegade by the arms and began to half carry, half drag him toward one of the alcoves. Todd found it highly ironic that the Queen should choose for The Renegade to be held prisoner in what was once his own laboratory._

_"You never intended—" The Renegade gasped, breathlessness cutting him off._

_"No," Todd answered simply. Then, when The Renegade did not offer more, he said, "You clearly wish to cling to some…pointless principle and starve yourself – and for what?"_

_The Renegade did not answer, save to fix him with a most baleful stare that would have withered lesser Wraith. The answer suddenly came to Todd as if someone had clearly spoken it to him._

_"Ah – of course, your precious… Teyla." He drew out her name as a growl, as if rolling it around on his tongue; tasting it. He knew he was right when The Renegade's stare turned to scarlet fury in his eyes and he began to struggle in the grasp of the drones. Fixing his face into an expression of regret, Todd said, "You need not concern yourself with her." Before he turned away, he saw The Renegade's muscles tense; the look of desolation and panic that came over him. Beginning to walk toward the door of the laboratory, Todd added, "Not any more."_

_"What do you mean?" The Renegade cried out after him as Todd moved further away. "What have you done to her!"_

_As he left the laboratory, Todd felt his own appellation called after him in a mental contact born of pure anguish. He smiled._

**

"Woolsey," Sheppard said, hurrying to keep up with the man, "I really don't think this is a good idea. You're the one who's always trying to shove the rule book down my throat. You're the base commander. You should stay _on the base_. I can handle these negotiations."

"Colonel Sheppard," Woolsey stopped walking so quickly that Sheppard had to walk back a few steps to continue the conversation. "When it comes to subtlety, you have about as much aptitude as a house brick."

"Oh, and you've got more, I suppose," Sheppard snapped. "One word: Teyla."

"Might I remind you, Colonel, that it wasn't my actions that finally led to her leave Atlantis," Woolsey said. "Rather it was your decision to keep from her the truth about the paternity of her son."

"My decision?" Sheppard said.

_How does it feel, Colonel Sheppard, to know that it's me she calls for in the dead of night; me she reaches for when she's in need…_

He growled and poked a finger into the centre of Woolsey's chest. "I suppose you would have just _subtly _dropped into conversation that, more than likely, the man she loved and thought of as her baby's daddy was actually a stooge, and the _real_ father was some loathsome psychopath that's been _stalking_ her ever since—"

"Sheppard!" Woolsey called his name sharply, breaking his verbal stride. "Teyla is not the issue here. The inhabitants of this world who claim to need our help _are_."

"Look… Around you, Mister Woolsey." Sheppard fumed at being cut off like that. He looked around the small encampment set up on bare grassland at the foot of a rocky scree. Scant few large, green canvass tents lined the edge of the grass closest to the scree and defensive posts had been hastily erected, barely metres away, from sandbags and empty equipment containers. "It's a field base. Barely defensible, you'll be vulnerable, you—"

"I have every faith in your ability to protect the operations' centre, Colonel. It's your job and it's something you do remarkably well," Woolsey said, adding a moment later, "considering. You do _your_ job and leave me to do the job _I_ have been trained for, and negotiate with these people."

Woolsey walked onward to where the small band of natives still sat in the shadow of the machine gun posts.

"Damn… stubborn man," Sheppard grumbled under his breath.

After a few steps, Woolsey stopped and turned around. "Shall we?" he suggested.

**

_"Jennifer," he started. "Listen, I—"_

_The wailing of the city's alarms preceded the sudden explosion that rocked the walls around them and sent debris flying into the infirmary._

_Ignoring the pain, he pulled Keller closer, wrapped his arms around her and threw them both to the ground, covering her protectively with his body._

_"Ronon!" Keller protested, and pushed at him to try and get him to move off her. He couldn't move. The pain in his lower abdomen was crippling._

_"Wait," he gasped. "Wait."_

_"No, you need to let me see to your—" she pushed at him again. This time he managed to roll aside, to lie on his back, still breathless and almost blinded by the pain, but mobile at least._

_"Wraith," he whispered._

_"What?" Keller frowned at him as though she hadn't heard. "Wrai—how do you—?"_

_"Listen," he said, clearly hearing the high pitched whine of a Wraith Dart. What didn't register was that it was getting louder._

_She suddenly screamed and was pulled away from him. He heard her collide with something across the infirmary, and turned his head, trying to force his eyes to focus. What he saw both filled him with anger and with fear – Wraith in the heart of Atlantis and a gaping hole in the outside wall of the infirmary._

_A Wraith commander had Jennifer by the torn shoulder of her scrubs and was drawing back his other hand in preparation for feeding on her. Ronon knew he had only seconds to act. He looked around, his eyes frantically searching for something he could use as a support or a weapon… preferably both. A nearby IV stand caught his attention, and as quickly as he could he rolled toward it, before using it to lever himself upright._

_Once more ignoring his pain, determined to save Keller, he picked up the heavy metal rod, and growling, rushed at the Wraith._

_The impact was jarring. White fire flooded from the contact between Wraith and weapon to fill his belly, and red hot blood rose high into his ears, to deafen him; drown him; pull him down into the terrible black nothing of unconsciousness._

**

"I'm not comfortable with it, is all I'm saying." Sheppard punctuated his sentence by placing his hand firmly on top of the table in the command tent around which he and McKay were gathered with Woolsey, Keller and Captain Warsh.

"What in particular is it that makes you uncomfortable?" Woolsey asked. "It seems straightforward to me. These people need food and medicine – they offer us the chance to look over the technology left to them by their ancestors, and further and free entry into the caves housing the device."

"Their ancestors were Wraith worshippers," Sheppard said.

"Yes, but these people _aren't_." Woolsey said. "The Hive their ancestors served was wiped out generations ago."

"How do you know they're not lying, sir?" Warsh asked more calmly than Sheppard had been about to do so.

"Doctor Keller?" Woolsey invited Jennifer to answer the question for him.

"I've examined these people, Colonel, and there isn't a trace of the Wraith enzyme in their systems that would be present if they had been exposed to the feeding-reverse feeding process," she said.

"A handful of people," Sheppard argued, "probably carefully chosen to make up this negotiation party for that very reason, because they _knew_ you'd test them."

He sighed in frustration. He didn't understand why Woolsey, of all people, was suddenly being so incautious; so free with aid, when not so long ago he had all but shut off Atlantis from the rest of the Pegasus galaxy. It didn't make sense to him. Maybe McKay was right all along – maybe the device here _did _mess with your head even if you hadn't been hit by one of the stunners. He couldn't help looking over at McKay.

"Don't look at me," the scientist protested. "If Jennifer says they're clean, that's good enough for me. Besides, geophys was unable to help with locating another entrance to the cave system within any reasonable distance. If we want to maintain access to that device – and let me tell you that we do… need to, I mean – then we have to take these people up on their offer."

"Convenient," Sheppard said.

"I must say, Colonel Sheppard," Woolsey said, sitting back in his chair, "this is somewhat of a turn up for the books. Not so long ago you would have argued yourself blue in the face to help these kinds of people."

"And you would have argued against it," Sheppard answered, "which is my second point of dissention in all of this."

"What, just because I think it's a good idea, you don't?" Woolsey accused.

"What?" Sheppard couldn't believe what he was hearing, "No, don't be ridiculous. You have spent _months_ trying to persuade me that our priority should be defending Atlantis, not running off to help every needy Pegasus native, and yet, here you are – complete turnaround, and—"

"But this _does_ help to defend Atlantis, Colonel," Woolsey said. "Any knowledge we can gain of Wraith technology helps Atlantis in the event that the Wraith ever find our new location."

Sheppard had to admit that he had a point. "True," he said, "but—"

"And to get it from people like these, peacefully, where we're not under fire, or in danger from Wraith attack," Woolsey pressed home his point, "isn't that a bonus?"

Sheppard sighed. "For now, let's just say that I'll… cautiously agree."

"So," Woolsey nodded, "Where does that leave us? Doctor McKay?"

"Hmm?" McKay blinked and looked around the table.

"The device?" Sheppard asked.

"Ah, yes," McKay began, "well, there's good news and… and there's bad news."

"Again with the, _why does nothing ever go according to plan_?" Sheppard breathed.

"Rodney?" Keller asked, sitting forward in her seat, concerned.

"The good news is that I was right," McKay said.

"That's the _good_ news?" Sheppard murmured dryly, returning the sour, sarcastic look that McKay gave him.

"Very funny," McKay said on the end of the look. "I found the device, and it would appear that there are a number of settings on the indicator panel – one of which, I'm sure, from my knowledge of Wraith ideograms, will provide us with the wake up call our people need."

"And the bad news?" Warsh asked, taking the words out of Sheppard's mouth.

"Ah, there you see, that's where it gets a little complicated," McKay admitted. "See… unlike the previous device on M1B-129, this one has no… external controls. It's like some of the more sensitive systems on board a Hive, whereby—"

"You mean you have to be a Wraith to operate it." Sheppard stated, cutting McKay off.

"In short," Rodney said, looking crestfallen. "Mostly, yes."

"Mostly?" Woolsey asked.

"Well it's possible that if I can get one of the tablets to talk to the neural interface somehow that I can rig up a workaround, but—"

"Then it should be no problem," Keller said, "I know you've done it before, on the Hive ship you took from Michael's people, and the other, after the battle with the replicators, and—"

"It's not quite that simple," McKay said with a sigh. "Yes, in theory I could patch up an interface… but as before, with the Hive ship, getting it to answer to our commands is… hit and miss at best. I might well trigger something that will kill Ronon and the others, rather than wake them up. If I _knew_ which of the bio-synthetic pathways did what it would be easier but—"

"Right," Sheppard said, standing up so suddenly that his chair fell back against the floor. "I think it's pretty clear that we need some inside help here."

Woolsey frowned at him. "What are you suggesting? That we just… contact the nearest Hive ship and ask the Wraith to play ball?"

"After a fashion," he said.

"Todd," McKay said sourly.

"He might _think_ he doesn't owe me any favours, and that we're even, but—"

"Isn't that dangerous?" Woolsey asked, still frowning. "What if another Wraith intercepts your communication, or, for goodness sake, he _is_ a Wraith. What if Todd betrays you?"

"He wouldn't do that," Sheppard said. "Besides, like I said. He still owes me, and – you can jump in any time Rodney – from what I can tell, this is our only chance to deactivate that thing."

"I hate to say it," McKay admitted, "but I think it's probably our best shot."

Woolsey sighed, "All right," he said eventually, "but in the meantime, we maintain negotiations and good relations with these people, and you, Doctor McKay, continue your study of the device… just in case. I don't like having to rely on a Wraith for anything."

"Neither do I," Sheppard said, "But in this case, we have no choice."

**

Rodney circled the cylindrical device that hung suspended between the floor and ceiling of the cave, watching as the organic luminescence travelled from one point on the apparatus to another. He tried not to listen to the whispering echoes that seemed to seep from the walls, startling him with sudden drips and clicks and rustles. Nervous, he decided, was not a strong enough word to describe his current state of mind.

Taking a deep breath he returned to the ledge that held his computer tablet, and looked down at the percentage indicator on the display. Still thirty-five percent remained of the scan for the correct frequency that would allow the two 'computers' to communicate, and nothing to do except to resume his circling the Dream Generator.

He nodded, self-satisfied. Sheppard wasn't the only one who could name things, and Dream Generator was as good a name as anything for this device. Then again, the longer he thought about it, the more mundane he thought it was, and then he decided that it wasn't suitable at all.

"Alpha, beta, theta, delta…." he started reciting wave-names under his breath, which led to, "Brain Wave Alteration Device, no, Apparatus, no… um… Neural… Neural Wave Generator. Neural Wave Generator – Yes!"

"Fascinating, isn't it?"

McKay let out a small cry, and jumped at least a foot off the ground, turning to face the shadows from which the voice had come. The shadows moved, and resolved themselves into the tower of ugliness that was Professor Varnerin.

He began to demand what the psychologist was doing there, and how long he had been hiding in the shadows, but the revelation of the man had been so sudden, and had so upset his equilibrium that it came out somewhat skewed.

"What the _hell_ long have you been doing?" he said.

"Excuse me?" Varnerin looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

"There!" McKay demanded, pointing back into the shadows. "How long have you been there? And what the hell are you doing, sneaking up on a man in a place like this. You could have given me a heart attack."

"Hardly, Doctor McKay," Varnerin answered, moving closer to inspect the apparatus. "It _is_ fascinating, though, don't you think?"

"What? Oh, the Neural Wave Generator, yes, quite," McKay said.

"Neural Wave Generator?" Varnerin queried.

McKay nodded toward the machine again, and as the professor stretched out his hand toward the device, he said, "It's also potentially deadly, so until we find a way to safely interface with it, I think keeping our hands to ourselves is probably the wisest thing to d—"

The steady sequence of bioluminescent ripples on the Neural Wave Generator gave a little hiccup with an accompanying bleep before returning to its regular pattern.

"What did you do?" McKay asked urgently, rushing back over to his computer.

"Do?" Varnerin asked, frowning.

"Yes, do… what did you do? What did you touch?" McKay repeated.

"Nothing," the professor said indignantly. "I touched nothing."

"Yes, well it's never done that before, and I've been here for… for hours," McKay said, realising he didn't actually know how long he'd been here exactly, but it had been a long time. He reached up to key his headset mic. "Sheppard, this is McKay."

He received only static in response.

"I believe you'll find that will not work here," Varnerin said, annoying McKay still further by stating something so obvious.

"Right," he snapped, and snatched up his tablet. "That's it… out."

"I beg your pardon," Varnerin blinked at him.

"Out," McKay repeated, pointing at the exit. "Visiting hours to the Museum of Advanced Wraith Technology are over… especially to idiots who don't know any better than to keep their hands to themselves."

With righteous indignation fuelling his anger, he pushed Varnerin toward the doorway, and quickly followed him, taking a glance back at the, now quiescent, Neural Wave Generator just before he stepped into the tunnel.

**

_The sensation of someone gently running their fingers through his hair woke him. He sighed softly, and whispered her name. "Melena…"_

_"Easy, Ronon," a female voice, but not hers, said softly. He started to struggle to sit up. "Easy… it's Jennifer…it's all right…"_

_"Jennifer," he breathed out, reality coming to him again, "Sorry, I—"_

_"It's all right," she told him, "You lost a lot of blood when you tried to save me from the Wraith. What the _hell_ were you thinking? You'd only just come through surgery and you go—"_

_"He was trying to feed on you," Ronon said, and started to try and sit up._

_"Lie still," she told him, holding him in place, his head in her lap. "The less we move, the less likely she is to figure out you're awake."_

_"She?" he asked, looking up at Keller with a frown._

_She nodded. "After you lost consciousness, the Wraith dragged us both in here. A little while later, a Wraith Queen arrived in the city."_

_"What the hell happened?" he said. His voice, still a little hoarse, cracked on the words._

_"I don't know," she said. "not for sure, but the Wraith have been saying that with Sheppard and the others away on a wild goose chase – well they didn't put it quite like that, but – well with them away they just… caught us off guard. I haven't seen anyone else. For all I know they could all be—"_

_Ronon shook his head. "Help me to sit up," he said._

_"Ronon," she protested, but he gave her a look and she eventually complied. "Just take it slowly."_

_He did. He couldn't do anything else, and then peeked over the top of one of the chairs in the conference room to try and work out how they might find a way out of their predicament. After only another moment he turned the chair on its side as carefully as he could, and began to lever the metal legs back and forth._

_"What the hell are you doing?" Keller asked softly._

_"Making a weapon," he answered. "I assume you want to get out of here?"_

_**_

Even with the lights dimmed in her chamber the Lesser Queen's limbs and head ached with the barely muted fire of not having fed properly for far too long. Quietly she rumbled audible curses against the Elder Queen who had forbidden it, as a punishment for the treachery she had perceived. The Lesser Queen could not help but chuckle a little. If only the Elder knew the truth of it…

"My Queen…" her Commander appeared at her side. He startled her a little. Her mind had been… elsewhere. She narrowed her eyes at the expression on his face, part way between worry and fear.

"Speak," she commanded him imperiously.

"Our Hive has received a subspace warning from the device." She sat up straighter as he continued in earnest, worried tones. "We have scanned for the other Hives, and barely moments ago the Elder's Hive made a sudden jump to hyperspace. We fear—"

"Fool," she cried, pushing him aside. "We should already be en-route to intercept her. We cannot allow her to learn the truth!"

"You mean to—" he asked almost fearfully.

"I mean to _finish_ this charade," she roared at him, advancing on him slowly. Rather than back up, he lowered himself to his knees.

"You sent for me, My Queen?" The softly confident voice of the Hive's Second-in-Command disturbed the near silence of the room. She did not answer him.

The Lesser Queen slowly unfastened the leather of her Commander's coat, ran her fingers almost seductively over the naked flesh beneath. His breathing quickened.

"My Queen," he whispered. He had a look of complete submission on his face.

She growled, and suddenly thrust her hand hard against his chest. Then she threw back her head, and exalted in her feeding. Not until her former Commander was little more than a dry husk did she turn her head to regard the new Hive Commander.

"Set us on an intercept course with the Elder's Hive. Let us teach her not to interfere where she is not welcome," she said.

"As you wish, My Queen," he answered, and she did not miss the glance he gave to his predecessor as he excused himself from her presence.

**

_"Of course I do," Keller said, her voice an urgent whisper, "but… are you insane? Ronon you just underwent extensive surgery to repair a knife wound. You've already proven you're not fit for physical activity. There has to be anot—"_

_Ronon grabbed the top of her shoulder and pulled her closer. Frustration was seething through him. He growled in her face._

_"There _is_ no other way," he said. "If there's a Wraith Queen standing freely in Atlantis' Control Room then the City has fallen. We have to get out of here, get to somewhere we can… get a message to Sheppard and the others. They come back through that Gate – they're dead and I won't sit by and watch that happen to my friends. I won't do nothing and let these Wraith torture and feed on you. I'll find a way; destroy the City if I have to."_

_He let go of her then and finally, savagely, pulled one of the metal chair legs free of the chair. The end of it was jagged, and it wasn't much, but at least it was a weapon, and it would do until he could get to something more effective._

_Rubbing her shoulder, she asked, "What do you need me to do?"_

_"Are there bandages in that first aid kit?" he said, nodding to the box that stood to the side of the conference room._

_"There better be," Keller said fiercely. "Otherwise, when we get through this, I'm firing my staff."_

_Keeping low, Keller crawled across the open space toward the first aid kit. The longer they could keep the Wraith in the nearby room from noticing that he was awake, the better chance they had of being able to make it out of the conference room._

_As he watched her return, successful in retrieving the necessary supplies, Ronon couldn't help smiling, and said, "I want you to bind this wound… tight, I mean real, 'a doctor would never do this,' tight."_

_Jennifer chuckled then and he could tell she was only half playful from the tone in her voice as she said, "What, so you can fight and hurt yourself some more?"_

_His heart lurched in a sudden pain - just another way in which she reminded him of Melena. He shook his head – just another reminder that whatever he and Jennifer had could never be anything more than deeply platonic. He had only one space in his heart for anything more, and that was still full of the very real presence of a woman whose strength and resolve had been a true match for his own._

_"Jennifer, I…" he started. When she looked up at him from where she was working on binding him up tightly, he faltered. He didn't want to hurt her either._

_"It's all right, Ronon," she told him. "I think I know what you're going to say."_

_He shook his head._

_"It's not that… It's not that I wouldn't think of it," he said. "I would, and I have." She blinked at him, and he swallowed before continuing, "That day we got trapped in the infirmary… if we hadn't gotten interrupted…"_

_"But it wouldn't have been right?" she finished for him._

_"It wouldn't have been _fair_," he corrected. "You remind me of Melena – terribly, at times – and I won't do that to you. Your friendship means too much to me to hurt you in that way."_

_"You… loved her very much," she said, tying off the bandage, and then reaching up to lay her hand against his cheek. "I knew that from the first time you mentioned her."_

_"That kind of feeling doesn't go away," he agreed. "Even time doesn't lessen it and it isn't something you can replace. So I couldn't-- You deserve better than I could give you."_

_She gave an ironic little chuckle, barely more than a sharp outward breath._

_"When we get through this," she said softly, "you can buy me a beer in memory of her."_

_He nodded, not trusting himself to speak._

_**_

Vega tried to banish the terrible feeling of déjà-vu that she had as she paced back and forth across the laboratory floor. She glanced toward the side door, standing open as it was, that she now knew led into his personal quarters – a bedroom and a room in which to bathe – and then at the cot he kept at in the corner of the lab. She shook her head. She didn't at all understand why he didn't use the other room. Of course she'd never actually seen him sleep – not for rest anyway. The only time she'd known him use the cot at all was after he had almost been blown to dust in the explosion aboard the Hive. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself as she remembered it. She'd been terrified for him. How could he have gotten so far under her skin?

"I was told I would find you here." At the sound of the Hive Commander's voice, and the accompanying, sibilant hiss of the closing door, her blood drained into the pit of terror that suddenly opened up inside of her. She heard a buzzing in her ears, and a faint, sickly feeling came over her.

Pretending she had not heard him, and stating the obvious, she answered, "He is not here, Commander."

He started to cross the room toward her, and she tried to circle behind the workbench, to keep something between them.

"I am not in the habit of playing games of 'cat and mouse,' woman," he growled. "You will submit."

Vega looked around the room, frantically searching for a way to avoid the Hive Commander. If she retreated into the bedroom, now behind her, she would be trapped and vulnerable, with nowhere left to go. And yet, she was just as trapped in the laboratory. He had closed the door.

He started to come around the workbench that stood between them, and in defiance of him, in fear for her life, she circled the other way, putting the length of it between them. A weapon then – something with which she could defend herself – and instead of looking for a way out, she started looking for something that would serve her purpose.

Quickly she snatched up a scalpel that was lying on top of a metal tray, and as she circled further around the bench, putting the closed alcoves behind her, she held it up between them, as fiercely as she could.

The Hive Commander paused for a moment, before he put back his head and let out a chilling laugh.

"So you wish to make a sport of it," he said, and in the next moment took his own knife from its sheath and tossed it to the floor by her feet. "At least let me make it worth my effort."

Never one to refuse whatever assistance was offered, she carefully crouched and took up the heavy, barbed knife. As she stood once more, rather than consign the scalpel to uselessness, she flung it toward his head. As she thought he would, he simply batted the projectile aside.

She had not counted on him simply vaulting the bench however, and in the next moment found herself backpedalling rapidly, and wildly swinging her newly acquired weapon between them to try and keep him back. She might just as well have been waving a feather at him.

With an upward sweep of one powerful arm, perfectly timed, he was able to grab her flailing wrist in his hand. With the other, he lashed out and grabbed her just beneath her jaw, lifting her feet from the floor. He continued his forward momentum until the door of one of the alcoves knocked all the air from her lungs. The impact jarred the knife from her hands.

"Arrogant Human," he rumbled as he stepped really close, pressing his face almost against hers. She squeezed her eyes closed and turned her face aside, a small shrill whimper escaping from her clenched teeth. "Better than you have tried."

She attempted to kick her legs against him, but he stepped in closer, using his immense form to pin her in place, then, releasing her wrist, and ignoring the way she immediately began to beat against his shoulders, ran the back of his scalding hand down over her cheek, and neck, rumbling slightly as he did. The metalwork, intricate, twisting finger armour scraped sharply against her.

"I can… perhaps see the appeal," he hissed, leaning closer, "in his disloyalty."

She whimpered again and tried to turn her head further aside. "Commander, truly…" she tried to say, but the words seemed pulled back inside by her terror.

"You reek of fear," he rumbled against the skin of her cheek as he breathed in deeply, smelling her. "Good then… let us end this game…"

He pulled her suddenly away from the wall, almost tucking her under his arm to take the few steps to reach the cot. She cried out at the sudden jarring in her back as he threw her against it, and descended over her, pinning her in place beneath him. Her struggles became frantic as her own deepest fear overwhelmed even the thought of what the Hive Commander so obviously intended.

"Let me go! Let me go!" she chanted, becoming more breathless with each desperate cry.

"You will tell me what I wish to know or I—"

His weight suddenly lifted away from her upper body and she wriggled frenetically to free her legs from beneath what remained of it, to curl around herself in the corner beside the wall, the pillow trapped beneath her. From somewhere she registered the deadly, chilling rumble of Todd's voice.

"If you truly wish to challenge me, then challenge _me_."

She peeked up through her lashes to see Todd, one foot braced against the top of the cot, with the Commander's throat exposed to the press of the knife Todd held. He had the Commander's long hair wound around the hand that was not holding the knife, and had pulled him backwards over his raised knee.

"Otherwise," Todd growled, "Leave. Her. Alone."

The temperature in the room dropped perceptibly as the two Wraith glared at each other. It just made her curl up even more tightly, hardly daring to imagine what would happen next.

"There… is no challenge," The Hive Commander said slowly. "Impertinent woman brandished a weapon against me."

"Indeed," Todd breathed, and removing the knife from where he pressed it against the Commander's throat, grabbed the shoulder of his coat and, turning, practically threw him toward the now open door. "Perhaps you have become too accustomed to the simpering obedience of your own concubine." He did not give him a chance to answer, cocking his head a little, he added, "Now… unless you have business with me…?"

The Hive Commander glared at him one more time before he turned on his heels and stormed away. Todd followed some little way, to close and lock the door behind him. When he returned, and lowered himself to sit on the side of the cot, she all but threw herself against him, trembling as though freezing.

"Alicia," he drew out the soft growl of her name, and held her; steadied her against his chest as the sobs began. "Be at peace… you are safe…"

"He… pi—" she tried, "pi—"

She could not speak for the sobs. Todd let out a gentle rumble as he pressed his cheek to hers. The sound rolled over her and she found it strangely comforting. Her breathing slowed and gradually the shuddering ceased. For the first time she found herself registering his unique scent, a warm, musky cinnamon, with earthy undertones. The awareness of it wrapped around her, nipping at her centre.

She tried to look up at him, but could see only the profile of his chin, the hairs of his goatee there before her. She reached up an almost hesitant hand and drew the soft strands of it through her fingertips. He looked at her then, intensely, openly, drawing her eyes to meet with his.

"I'm sorry I—" she whispered.

"There is no need for apology," he told her, his voice softer than she had ever heard it.

"I've caused you trouble," she finished.

He moved one arm from around her, and gently raised his hand to her face, to carefully wipe away the remains of her tears from her cheek. She closed her eyes at the touch, beginning to fall in toward the spiral inside of her belly.

"That one's trouble would have found me anyway," he said, "Do not blame yourse—"

She leaned up quickly and stopped his words with a slightly hesitant brush of her lips against his, beginning to draw away in the next moment, but he followed her, his own lips parting slightly as they met with hers again, his teeth gently grazing her lower lip. She moaned and tightened her arms around him as he slipped his fingers into her hair, his thumb still stroking against her cheek. Her lips parted under his as the kiss they shared deepened, as she tasted the sweet warmth of his mouth.

Her heart beat as though it would burst and the spiralling ache inside of her grew and tightened. The moment stretched away into what seemed like an eternity of nothing but the scent of him, the taste of him… and left her breathless when, at last, he pulled away.

He let out a growling breath that nipped at the heels of the retreating spiral of need in her belly.

"You should rest," he told her.

"Okay, but—" she glanced around them a little.

"Not here," he said, and suddenly shifted her in his arms, and effortlessly lifted her against his chest as he got to his feet. She lowered her head to rest on his shoulder as he carried her into his private chambers.

**

_Moving was still painful, but at least, his wound bound as it was, it was still possible. What Ronon didn't know, however, was how they were supposed to get past the Control Room to the stairs. He peeked around the side of the door. The three Wraith in the room seemed to be deep in conversation, but it would still be tricky. He closed his eyes, remembering the layout of the base. If they could make it as far as the nearest transporter…_

_"We have to go quickly," he whispered to Keller, who pressed close behind him, "and stay low."_

_He felt her nod, and slowly began to inch his way along the balcony toward the stairs. He hardly dared move for making a noise, knowing how sensitive the Wraith were to sound… sound and scent… he reminded himself, as he felt Jennifer's hand trembling against his back._

_He cursed himself to the fool that he was in the instant before he felt the absence of her touch; before he heard her scream of terror as she cried out his name. The Wraith had been playing with them all along._

_Growling, abandoning any pretence of stealth, he rose to his feet, turning as he did and like some avenging angel, began to stride slowly toward the Wraith between him, and the one holding Keller._

_"A little sport, before we feed on your little pet," the Queen said from nearby. "Good…"_

_"Ronon," Keller cried out to him, "Just go! Get out of here!"_

_Growling his steps quickened, until he ran full on at the Wraith, brandishing his chair-leg weapon as he did._

**

Todd breathed out slowly, his chin still resting against the top of Vega's head, her head pillowed against his chest. She was peaceful now, resting properly, and he couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since she had. Such a complicated situation; such a complex woman, his curiosity had courted this and he found it only fuelled by these developments. The kiss had been a maddening frustration in his intentions only to comfort her.

He _would not_ take from her more than she was consciously willing to give and, while she had not protested or resisted his advances, that had been in the wake of her terrible trauma at being pinned at the hands of the Hive Commander.

What, he wondered, were her fears concerning being restrained? He knew she had them, remembered from before, when he had needed to administer his cure for her suffering the effects of her body's inability to absorb the Hoffan protein, that she had refused to allow him to restrain her even though he had told her the pain would be great.

Idly he ran his fingers along her arm, which rested across his body, toward her shoulder and another sigh escaped him. Would it have been so terrible to have exposed himself to the vulnerability of complying with her request?

_He set her down against the soft surface of the bed, and began to slide his arms from around her. She looked up at him, a slight pout on her lips._

_"Stay," she whispered, "Please… hold me."_

_With a raised eyebrow he looked down at himself, then back at her and saw the flush of colour that spread upward over her uncovered skin. He had every intention of holding her, but he needed to be free of his coat, before he returned to settle at her side and offered himself as a place to pillow her head. She hesitated only slightly before she nestled into his side and rested her head against his shoulder._

_The scent of her hair, clean and almost floral, washed over him, but under it he detected the muted bite of her arousal at the kiss. He took in a deep breath, and let it out as a slow growl as his senses began to respond to the mix of emotions._

_"Todd?" she called his name softly, and he looked down to see her watching him._

_"It is nothing," he said softly, and looked away again, "rest."_

_She reached up and with a light press of her fingers against his cheek turned his face back toward her._

_"It isn't 'nothing.' You growled. Tell me," she insisted._

_"Growled?" he couldn't help teasing. He knew exactly what she meant._

_"Yes, you know. That little rumbling thing you do when you breathe out." She leaned up on one elbow; he assumed the better to see him. "Now tell me."_

_His answer had been a non-verbal one. He reached to slide his fingers into her hair and draw her closer to him again; to once more find her lips with his. The heady scent of her suddenly exploded inside him as their lips pressed close, as his teeth nipped against the tender, swollen flesh and at her almost timid request for more as her tongue barely brushed against his. Then she moaned, a deep primal sound, as he answered and deepened the kiss still further._

_She tasted of sweet, fruit sugars and crisp legumes, she tasted of hidden dangers, she tasted of the promise of life… He growled and pulled away._

_She swallowed, and began to lie back, trying to draw him with her, he knew, from the pressure of her hands on his arms, but he caught her and drew her down against his chest._

_"No," he said softly. "Not in the wake of what has happened."_

_He felt her take a shuddering breath, but then she nodded. "Thank you," she whispered._

_"Rest, Alicia," he said, drawing out the words, and pushing just slightly with his mind at the edges of hers. "I will still be here when you wake."_

_~when you wake~ ~wake~ ~wake~_

He reached to draw the cover over her a little more, and was about to settle himself, to try and rest a little more beside her, when he noticed a regular blinking light on the communication device that provided him with a constant link to his own ship.

Moving slowly so as not to waken Alicia, he slipped from beneath her, moving his pillow to support her head, and then padded across the room to take the device into his hands and to read the incoming message his crew had sent on to him.

His nostrils flared in irritation as he saw the words scrolling across the screen.

"Sheppard," he growled softly.


	4. Act 4

Stargate Atlantis Letting Go The Only Way to Hold On

Act 4

Warsh was not usually the paranoid type. He had won his captaincy through his steady, clear minded approach to the missions he led; his good judgement and his overall duty of care, not only to the marines under his command, but to the other people, often innocent bystanders, caught in the situations against which his team was made to act. Some of that had changed since he came to Atlantis, admittedly, though he didn't like it – especially not the idiocy of which he'd been a part under Major Hollick's orders.

It was for that main reason that he felt so uncomfortable with the bad feeling that was growing in his gut as his small team escorted Mr Woolsey, the native woman, Rowf, and a small group of her people away from the main settlement into the surrounding wooded hills.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he called back to the civilian party nestled in the protective ring of his men, "but is this facility much farther?"

"Not much, Captain Warsh," she answered with a smile. "Soon you will see it."

He sighed, unable to shake the feeling, and glanced at Woolsey who was looking around, taking in their surroundings.

"Relax, Captain," he said, "you've no reason for concern."

"Famous last wo—"

It was a strange sensation, as though someone had poured a liquid burning ice into him. It settled in the middle of his chest and began to spread slowly, as though in his blood, along his limbs, filling them with weakness. He tried to call out a warning but found his voice would no more obey his commands than would his arms as he tried to raise his P90.

As his vision finally closed into darkness, he saw the figure coming from out of the trees ahead, and the look of shock on Woolsey's face.

**

"You—" Woolsey spluttered as he glanced at Rowf, and then back at the all-too-familiar black clad figure coming toward them from the tree line.

"I am sorry it was necessary to deceive you," Rowf told him. "It really would have been better if you had left behind the men that we stunned when your people first came here."

"Better for whom?" Woolsey snapped.

"Do not try to pass judgement on matters you do not understand," she spat back at him and moved to stand beside the Wraith, so obviously her master.

"Bring them," the Wraith rumbled. He turned and began to walk back toward the trees ahead. "There is much work to be done, and I must return."

"Now, just a—" Woolsey took a step forward, meaning to make a challenge, but the Wraith turned around and with a look of fury let out a menacing hiss into his face, and before Woolsey could even summon the strength to move his suddenly paralysed limbs, grabbed him by the front of his jacket.

"You are lucky, Human, that my tasks are too important to allow me the time to take pleasure in feeding on you," he said.

"That's hardly a threat," Woolsey answered, though he felt the threat more keenly than he tried to reveal. "You're going to feed on me sooner or later anyway."

"Then enjoy the time you still have left to you," the Wraith snarled, and releasing him abruptly, turned once more and walked on into the trees.

"Bring him," Rowf ordered the men that were not already carrying one of the marines the Wraith had stunned into submission.

"Where are we going?" Woolsey asked as he felt himself grabbed by the arms, and a sharp blow in the small of his back, which was meant to encourage him to move. "Really, I mean."

"We are going where I told you," she answered, "to show you the Wraith technology you are so eager to view."

Even as she spoke, the trees through which he was being hurried gave way to a dark mass nestled in their midst. At first he thought it was some kind of crystalline rock face, but as they got closer he realised what it was he was seeing, and swallowed hard as he was led, a quiescent suckling pig for slaughter, into the dormant Hive Ship.

**

It was a sadistic cruelty she visited on The Renegade, an act of psychological warfare against him to force him to submit to her will. Todd knew this and yet he had to force himself to stillness and to remain impassive as the sub-commander she ordered to give the _Gift of Life,_ in order to sustain The Renegade through the trauma of the changes he would undergo once the serum was administered again, was immediately executed before his eyes.

Todd waited until the drones had fastened The Renegade onto one of the operating tables, closing the restraints around his already bruised wrists and ankles, before he leaned over the miserable creature, under the pretence of examination, to speak to him urgently.

"Why do you not simply feed," he implored him. "Take away this power she has over you."

"She has _no_ power over me," The Renegade hissed and though the words were viciously spoken, the sudden loss of his 'hive brother' had clearly had no little effect on him, even though Todd suspected the unfortunate Wraith would have died anyway.

"You know she will do this again and again until you acquiesce to your needs; submit to her," Todd said.

"Then more Wraith will… die at… her... hands," this time The Renegade could not keep the pain of it from his voice, "for I will do _neither_."

"Then you are more the fool than I believed," Todd said and sighing, moved to the nearby workbench to pick up the syringe filled with the serum that would further reduce the Human DNA still present in The Renegade's body. On his return he pressed a hand against the side of the creature's head to turn it and expose the vein in his neck.

The Renegade moaned. "Wait, Wait!" he said so desperately that Todd paused, and tilted his head in query.

"Please," The Renegade gasped, "Tell me."

"Tell you?" Todd frowned.

"Tell me what happened," he said, and when Todd frowned and shook his head, feigning confusion, as he knew full well what it was The Renegade was asking, the creature drew in a deep breath, and in an anguished whisper said, "Teyla…"

"It was… inevitable," he answered as though it was of little consequence to him, and before The Renegade could speak again, administered the serum, and stepped away with folded arms to watch its progress.

The struggles, perhaps an involuntary action, and the cries of pain began immediately, but the insults that flew from The Renegades lips were, Todd thought, an inventive mix of Wraith and Human anathema.

"You… Hiveless… Queenless… bastard!" he growled between cries, "You'll regret—!"

The pain finally overwhelmed him as the serum ripped through his system and dragged him down into the mutative darkness at its heart.

Todd sighed as he watched for a moment longer before moving away to check on the progress of the tests the Queen had insisted he perform after her last conversation with The Renegade.

_"Release him," she commanded looking back over her shoulder at Todd as she leaned over The Renegade on the operating table._

_"My Queen," Todd said with as much respect as he could muster, "I would caution—"_

_"I said release him!" she hissed at him, lashing out mentally. The punishment was a brief but sharp icy burn that left a wave of dizziness in its wake. Even so, he managed a slight bow._

_"As you wish," he said softly, and activated the control to release the restraints from around The Renegade's wrists and ankles._

_The Queen turned away from him then, leaning closer over The Renegade. Todd watched in idle curiosity as she ran a lascivious hand along the exposed skin of the creature's arm, where it was grey and mottled from the imperfect transformation. She made a soft purring sound as though the sensation of the puckered flesh beneath her touch aroused her. He couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before The Renegade rejected the touch, or if, indeed, his transformation had rendered him as vulnerable to the Queen's pheromones as any Wraith male._

_He did not have to wait long for the answer to his wondering. Fast enough to take the Queen by surprise, The Renegade lashed out and struck at her wrist to force the, obviously unwelcome, touch away from his skin, before grabbing her wrist on the backward momentum. His next action was to reach up beneath their grappling hands and dig the fingers of his right hand into the softness of her throat._

_The Renegade pulled the Queen closer, until he could snarl into her face._

_"Though you do everything in your power to bend me to your will, I will never give to you that which you need to complete your purpose." She hissed at him then, and he hissed back with an intensity of hatred that chilled even Todd. Then The Renegade continued, "What is mine will remain mine."_

_"There are… other ways," she rasped through the constriction of his fingers around her throat._

_"No," he mocked her, "because the needs of your madness seek the pleasure of taking it."_

_Todd considered, seriously for a moment, whether he should just stand by and allow The Renegade to snap her slender, pale neck and have done with it. In the end, he decided that it would probably bring more trouble than he could, at that time, handle, and began to take a step forward…_

His intercession had not been necessary. The Queen had simply stopped clawing at the wrist at her throat and had freed herself with a backhanded slap to The Renegade's face. His head had rattled against the table. It was then she had angrily ordered Todd to take a sample of The Renegade's blood to test for the level of compatibility.

And still he awaited those results.

A sound behind him, in the open space in front of the doorway, caused him to turn in time to see the Hive Commander enter the room and glance around to take everything in.

"Can I help you with something?" Todd asked, almost congenially, moving out from behind the workbenches to put himself in a clear open space. He suspected this was not a social call.

"She warned you then?" the Hive Commander spat bitterly by way of an answer.

"Of course she did," Todd answered, not putting up any pretence of ignorance as to the Commander's words. "Why wouldn't she?"

"I would have thought that, by now, she would have learned to keep her silence in matters between Wraith." the Hive Commander growled, taking a step toward Todd.

"It just goes to prove that you know so very little about Humans," he said, and carefully, without making any obvious movements, slipped the knife from the sheath at his back hidden in the layers of his coat.

"I know enough about _that_ Human to know that she is not at all what she seems," the Hive Commander said coldly, "And I assure you—"

"Don't make promises you cannot keep," Todd interrupted with more than a little sarcasm colouring his voice and his thoughts.

Angered, the Hive Commander's barely held self-control snapped and he flew at Todd. Todd responded with an upward sweep of his arm, revealing the knife in his hand as he did so, and the Hive Commander barely had time to raise a defensive arm, before falling back to drop into a half crouch, drawing both of his own knives as he did so, but not before he had blotted at the bloody slice to the underside of his chin.

"I will see you rot for this," he growled.

"Again," Todd answered calmly, "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I know that you have been receiving covert transmissions," The Commander accused.

"From my own ship," Todd tilted his head as though confused by the accusation, though a cold lump began to form inside him, kindled of worry at how much the Hive Commander truly knew. "Of course – I am its commander; would you have me leave my crew entirely alone? Would you leave yours without your guidance?"

"Liar!" The Hive Commander flew at him again, both hands working in rapid circles and quick thrusts. Todd parried with both his knife and the padded leather of his forearm, struggling not only to keep the Commander's knives from reaching his body, but also to force the other Wraith to give ground. He wanted to prove his own superiority to the enraged Commander but as the Hive Commander thrust suddenly beneath his guard, Todd was forced to leap backwards to avoid injury and then to quickly raise his blade to catch the incoming, high strike with which the other Wraith followed through.

The hilts of the blades locked together, keeping Todd dangerously close to the Hive Commander's other hand that held an equally as deadly knife. As the Commander struck toward his side Todd caught the Wraith by the wrist and held tightly as they struggled together, each trying to get the upper hand.

"I know there was a coded signal in the last transmission you received," the Hive Commander grunted as they fought. "Soon I will prove it and—"

"You know _nothing._" Todd growled, angered by the growing coldness of his worry. "Not even of what occurs aboard your own Hive, with your own Queen."

"How _dare_ yo—"

The deck of the Hive suddenly lurched beneath them both, breaking the equilibrium, and Todd felt a sharp pain against his hip before the Hive Commander pulled away, a look of alarm on his face as he fell into communion with the others of his Hive.

"We are under attack," he said urgently a moment later. "This is not over, Scientist!"

He turned and hurried from the laboratory, presumably to return to the bridge.

"No, Commander," Todd said softly to his retreating back, but with a deadly edge to his voice. He pressed his hand to his hip, and growled as it came away wet with blood. "It is only just beginning."

**

"Who's there?" McKay whirled round, and nervously brandished the handgun in the direction of the entrance to the Neural Wave Generator chamber as he heard the sound in the corridor.

"Relax, McKay," Sheppard's lazy voice came back from the darkness. "I'm not the big bad wolf come to feed on you."

"Ha ha, very droll," McKay said with deep sarcasm as Sheppard stepped into the dim light of the lanterns McKay had placed around the chamber. "Why don't you try something original, then you might even be funny."

Sheppard ignored him, and did not rise to the challenge, for which McKay found he was profoundly grateful.

Instead Sheppard asked, "What do you think it's for?"

"This thing?" McKay gestured to the Neural Wave Generator, "I have no way to know for certain of course, but I do have several theories. My favourite at the moment is that it's some kind of training device to help… improve the Wraith's mental acuity in their telepathic communications over longer distances."

"At the moment?" Sheppard raised his eyebrow in apparent disbelief.

"Yes," McKay answered, "You see—"

"Never mind," Sheppard cut him off, and then gestured to the other entrance to the chamber. "Where does that go?"

"I have no idea," McKay answered, hurt clear in his voice. "I'm a scientist, doing a scientific study of a very complex piece of Wraith Technology. If you want to know where the tunnels in this place lead, you'll have to investigate by yourself."

"All right, I will," Sheppard said and started toward the second exit.

"Wait a minute," McKay protested. He hadn't meant for Sheppard to leave him alone there. The chamber and surrounding tunnels could be hiding _anything_. More importantly there was no guarantee that _he_ would be safe in the chamber, alone. He had asked for a marine escort. Even one would have been better than none at all, but his request had been denied when Woolsey had gone off on his wild goose chase after the promise of more Wraith Technology. Like Sheppard, McKay had protested the plan as reckless.

"Relax," Sheppard said for the second time in as many minutes. "You'll be fine."

"Easy for you to say," McKay said. "You're not the one who's been alone all day in a creepy old chamber with nothing but an alien machine for company."

"Be strong, Rodney," Sheppard answered, and McKay was sure he had a wry smile on his face. "In the meantime, see if you can figure out what that thing's all about, right?"

Before McKay could answer, Sheppard had disappeared through the opening to the catacombs on the other side of the chamber.

**

It was unusual to find this particular Queen on the bridge, but it served his purpose well enough that she was there. Not only would he be able to fire the next salvo in his conflict with the Hive Commander in front of the rest of the bridge crew – a damaging attack at the best of times – but he would also be able to view, firsthand, the current progress of the battle against the attacking Hive.

It seemed that as soon as they had left hyperspace in order to approach the planet, to and from which the Subordinate Hive had been sending and receiving communications, they had been fired upon, presumably by the Hive in question, who appeared to be defending the very planet from which his own crew had reported Colonel Sheppard's signal had originated. It was too convenient to have been a coincidence.

Todd paused a moment to compose himself before stepping through the doorway. Immediately he looked at the display that showed the telemetry data streaming in to the Hive in order to get a feel for the situation. They were doing well, though with their superior size and firepower he had not expected anything less. He rather suspected that the Subordinate Hive was doomed, which would likely prove to be trouble for Sheppard and his men.

With a slightly growling breath he reminded himself to take one step at a time. He turned in the direction of the Queen and gave an unusually low bow.

"My Queen," he said softly.

"What is it?" she snapped, barely glancing at him. "This is a situation which requires _all_ of our attention."

"Indeed," he said, still without straightening from his bow. "That is why I have come."

She suddenly turned away from viewing the screen to fix him with a surprised, but expectant glare and he knew he had her attention. Now, to choose his words wisely…

"No doubt your Commander has informed you," he began softly, with a viper smile appearing on his face when the Queen's gaze snapped back to the Hive Commander, demanding explanation.

"I have not had the chance, my Queen," he began apologetically, "but—"

"I am certain that, had we not met with this attack, he would have come to you with the news," Todd interrupted smoothly as though it were of no consequence, and in defence of the Hive Commander's lapse in vigilance, "that I have been receiving regular communications from my ship, in order that I might ensure that all is well in the event that we should need the backup they can provide for us."

He paused to glance between the Hive Commander, the Queen and the viewing screen, where he could see a further stream of Darts from the Elder Hive was closing on the Subordinate Hive. He did not speak again until prompted to do so.

"Continue," the Queen demanded.

"In the most recent of those communications," Todd said and made certain of the very careful selection of his next words, "my crew relayed a message that was sent to me by the Humans of Atlantis from the very planet this queen is attempting to defend."

"What was the content of this message?" the Queen stalked toward him, and grabbed the collar of his coat to pull him toward her. It seemed his care had not been sufficient to completely allay her suspicions, and over her shoulder he saw the satisfied smirk that appeared on the face of the Hive Commander.

"They were requesting my assistance," he said. It was the truth, though not the entire contents of the message. He neglected to mention the device that Sheppard had described and the fate that had befallen some of his soldiers. "It appears that Colonel Sheppard believes, after our last encounter, that I… owe… him."

He filled his mind with the negotiations between Sheppard and himself which failed due to the arrival of the Queen, who had been merely using him to draw the Humans to the meeting as bait in a trap for the Renegade. As he expected, she pushed at his mental barrier to investigate the veracity of his claims and he allowed her entry before he continued.

_"But I believe it is as dangerous to assume that you can bend The Renegade to your will as it is to assume that the humans will co-operate."_

_The Queen turned away, and began to walk back toward her throne. "And will they?" she asked._

_"Doubtful," he said, "Now anyway. They were ready to do so, before you launched your ill-advised attack. Now it is unlikely that they will trust even me."_

_"Then we must find a way to restore their faith in you." she purred._

"If you still wish to… maintain the possibility of a restoration of such faith…?" he left the question hanging for a moment before finishing, "Now would seem to be the perfect opportunity."

Her hold on both his mind, and the collar of his coat eased.

"Very well," she said after a moment. "Take a scout ship. Go to these… Humans and discover what it is they need."

With another low bow, though never taking his eyes off the enraged face of the Hive Commander, he said, "As you wish, my Queen."

"We will deal with this impudent whelp, and remain here to await your report," she told him, and he knew that her words were also her orders to the Hive Commanders.

**

He wasn't sure what had disturbed him from his angry reverie concerning Doctor McKay's arrogant and narcissistic self-aggrandisement, or his consuming irritation at being prevented, yet again, from examining the device that McKay seemed to insist it was _his_ right, and his alone, to investigate.

Varnerin paused when the slight scuffle sounded again somewhere off to his right, through what looked like an opening in the rocky wall. It had been this he had heard in spite of his state of agitation.

Shifting his arm slightly, he pointed the flashlight in the direction of the sound, but its beam became lost in the vastness of the chamber that lay on the other side of the opening, and showed him nothing.

When the sound came a third time, Varnerin became convinced that something was down there, something real for him to investigate, and he felt a flush of elation, and a somewhat petulant rush of childish one-upmanship toward the Canadian scientist. Abandoning caution, he turned his steps to follow the weak beam of the flashlight and stepped through the natural doorway, into the cave beyond.

As he stepped within, up ahead, a soft glow began to increase, illuminating a small area of the chamber barely enough for him to see that a figure inhabited the lighted space. It was immobile, but very clearly humanoid and, fascinated, Varnerin began to step quietly towards it.

"Your stealth is unnecessary," a voice came out of the dim illumination. It was almost melodic, carrying its own harmony in the undertones that echoed from it. He had never heard anything similar. "I know you are there."

Varnerin froze. For a moment he was uncertain what to do, whether to continue forward, or opt for caution, though it was perhaps a little late to consider that.

"Who are you?" he asked, schooling his voice to remain steady. "What—"

"Come closer," the voice interrupted, and he thought that, even as quiet as it was, it began to echo around the chamber to the point of being a mild confusion and he found that, in spite of his growing need for caution, he began to move his feet, one before the other, carrying him closer.

It was a mildly disconcerting sensation.

There was movement in the darkness outside of the pool of light, but try as he might, Varnerin could not turn his head away from the figure he was approaching, could not stop his eyes from trying to penetrate within the harshness of the bright circle to better see the figure within.

His conscious mind baulked at what he was doing; at his own recklessness, but recognising that he was under the control of an almost hypnagogic state of awareness, he also knew that it would not be easy for him to regain control. It did nothing to dispel the worry that was growing in the depth of his belly.

As he stepped into the area illuminated by a small glowing object, his assessment proved to be in error. The figure moved, rising from a sitting position, it turned to face him. The angular face, with yellow eyes that burned into him; the pale flesh and the hair, a sharp black in contrast, were unmistakably Wraith. She was clearly female, and both of those facts and the rush of shock that released adrenaline to court his fear to greater heights released him from the mildly hypnotised state.

He tried to step backward, to put some distance between him, and the young Wraith Queen even as she reached for him, but collided with a solid body immediately behind him. The clamp of vicelike fingers closed around the back of his neck, and he was held in place, even pushed forwards until he met with the outstretched hand of the adolescent Queen. It did not take his superior intellect to know that the figure behind him was likely also a Wraith.

"Wait," he called urgently, "Wait!"

She did pause, and titled her head first one way and then the other, before glancing over his shoulder at the second Wraith.

"Her hunger knows no patience," the Wraith behind him hissed into his ear.

"Then she would be making a big mistake," Varnerin answered, thinking rapidly, thinking of a way to save him from being instantly fed upon. It would not help his mission if he were to fall so soon after his arrival. "I've been… looking for you. If you feed on me, you'll never know what it is I have to offer."

She let out a long growling hiss, and her hand halted, barely away from the thin material of his shirt. Varnerin shuddered as she spoke.

"What makes you think I am at all interested in anything you could possibly offer?" the young Queen asked.

"You haven't fed on me yet," Varnerin pointed out, surprising himself with his own dangerous audacity.

"Hmm," the Queen began, "a quick mind and an im—"

She broke off with a cry that sounded half way between a gasp and a barely audible screech. Varnerin felt the fingers holding the back of his neck tighten, as the Wraith behind him responded to her distress.

"My Young Queen…?" he queried.

"My Birth-Hive is destroyed," she gasped, and then shifting her burning eyes past Varnerin's darkly curious gaze, she growled, "Others are coming."

"You need to hear what I have to say," Varnerin repeated, fearing that with this development he would be more vulnerable.

"Then speak quickly, Human," the Wraith hissed. "My Queen hungers."

"No," she mused, "It amuses me to feel his fear."

Varnerin shivered at her assessment of his condition at the same time as he chastised himself for allowing himself to feel that fear. Ever since he had been given his mission, and was assigned to the Pegasus galaxy, his curiosity concerning the Wraith had soared. He had dreams in which he met the Wraith, in all their deadly glory, dozens of them – yet here he was, standing before a queen, not even fully grown, with a single commander as her guard, and his belly quivered with it. Even to himself he reeked of the stench of it – and he hated that of himself.

"You should _feed_ on this one," the Wraith behind him advised. "He speaks too freely in your presence."

"Put him with the others." she said at last. "We will hear him – or not – when we depart."

**

Drawn by instinct in the right direction, Todd paused as he reached the chamber he knew contained the device that Sheppard had described in his communication. He could feel the waves of telepathic energy emanating from its many biogenetically created antennae, and even before he saw the configuration of the device, was beginning to speculate as to the many different possibilities for its existence. The two drones walking behind him stopped walking as he did.

_~secure the chamber~_

After only another moment, while he waited for the drones to move so that they were flanking the entrance, he began to move inside.

"Who's there?" an urgent, frightened whisper revealed itself from inside and he growled softly, easily recognising the voice.

"Doctor McKay," he greeted the human almost before he had stepped through the archway and could see the spineless little man. "I should have expected to find you here."

"So soon," McKay squeaked, backing up a step. "You must have been nearby. You—"

"Time and distance are relative to the urgency of the request," Todd answered. He tried not to let his irritation shop in his voice at the presence of the human scientist. It would hamper his discovery of the truth of the device, although, the more he saw of it, the less his doubt of its purpose. "…and to the curiosity of the … requested."

"You must be pretty curious then," McKay said, "this must be something importa—"

Todd watched as the dancing, crisp blue energy of his stunner enveloped the man; watched as McKay stiffened briefly, his face contorted in momentary pain, and then relaxed altogether as he slumped unconscious to the floor of the chamber. Slowly he lowered his weapon and then returned it to its holster.

Wasting no more time, Todd crossed to the device at the centre of the chamber and began an immediate and complete examination. It merely confirmed his suspicions.

"So," he murmured to himself, "that is what she has been attempting to hide from the Elder."

He couldn't help but chuckle. It was not an unknown practise among Wraith, for queens to send their offspring away from them, for safety, and to be raised in secret by a guardian Wraith who would then become the new queen's first Hive Commander, but in the many millennia of his life, he had encountered the practise only on a few occasions, for it was also dangerous. Queens raised in such a way could become unpredictable, dangerous… insane, and with an already capricious tendency, seemingly programmed into their very DNA, that was not necessarily a desirable trait. Even so…

He rumbled slightly as he began to formulate a plan that would allow him to manipulate the situation to serve his purposes. Likely, if there was a young queen here, there would also be a Hive ship, perhaps hidden somewhere deep within the planet's wilderness. He would also need to locate the queen herself, _and_ her guardian. He was so engrossed that the first he knew of Sheppard's arrival was when the man's voice broke the silence.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Sheppard said.

"Colonel Sheppard," Todd said calmly as he turned to face him. "I came as soon as I received your message. An intriguing device, is it not?"

"It's a pain in the ass device, is what it is," Sheppard said, gesturing toward it. "Some of my men got hit by some kind of stunner and now this thing is all that stands between them and brain death."

"And you need me to…?"

"I want you to turn it off, is what I want you to do." Sheppard told him.

"Surely your… Doctor Keller has told you that simply… turning off the device will lead to the very eventuality of which you have just spoken, John Sheppard." Todd purred. He watched as Sheppard shifted from one foot to the other, and knew that he had passed some kind of test that the man had set for him. He couldn't help but incline his head in a nod of recognition. "Very clever."

"I had to be sure," Sheppard said, and Todd thought he sounded perhaps a little apologetic. "Can it be reversed? Changed to some setting that will make them wake up?"

"It could," Todd answered.

"Can you do it?" Sheppard asked with increasing irritation evident in his voice.

"I could," Todd mused, "but why would I?"

"Because I'm asking real nice," Sheppard said darkly.

"Are you indeed?" Todd countered, matching Sheppard's tone. "It seems to me that you are, more accurately, making unfounded demands on my time and my… patience, that you offer little in return for my assistance and that all this time you have been pointing your weapon at me; threatening me."

"You shot McKay," Sheppard said by way of explanation.

"I _stunned_ McKay," Todd corrected him. "He was becoming… irritating."

He heard Sheppard chuckle, just a little before the human lowered his weapon.

"Look, bottom line, buddy," Todd raised a brow-ridge at Sheppard's choice of words, "I need your help on this. I need those men to wake up so that we can get the hell out of here. Some of my people are missing and—"

"They will have been taken to the Hive," Todd said as though stating the obvious.

Sheppard frowned. "There's no Hive ship here," he said.

"You are mistaken, Sheppard," Todd told him. "The very presence of this device reveals that there is a Hive nearby—"

"Great," Sheppard said under his breath.

"—and that, more than likely, is where your missing companions have been taken."

"Will you," Sheppard pressed urgently, and gestured toward the device, "make this thing wake my men or won't you?"

"First I shall need to return to my ship," Todd answered. "In the meantime, you need to find the Hive and rescue your people… and quickly."

"No shit, Sherlock," Sheppard said.

After staring at each other for a moment longer, Todd began to turn away, and heard Sheppard do likewise. He did not feel in the slightest remorseful for the fact that he had omitted to reveal certain details to the human concerning the device and what it meant, nor for the fact that, when he returned to his ship, it would be to contact the Elder Queen and inform her of the Lanteans' involvement in an unfortunate accident concerning a device they discovered. He would need to be careful to reveal only what information was necessary to alleviate her curiosity, while maintaining her ignorance of everything he, at present, only suspected. It was not the first time he would balance his life in his hands, nor, he suspected, would it be his last.

"Colonel Sheppard," he called as he reached the exit on his side of the chamber. Slowly he turned around to face the man once more. Sheppard also turned back to him. "Beware your arrogance. What little you know of Wraith may no longer be… enough."

He did not wait to view Sheppard's reaction to his words. He simply turned again on his heels and walked away.

**

Woolsey shivered as Rowf's men led him through the seemingly endless corridors of the Hive ship. He should have listened to Sheppard, to McKay, even to the marines who were telling him it was a bad idea to come out here – but his Intel had been sound, and the Expedition team _did_ need to know more of the Wraith, with whom they found themselves in constant, day to day battles. It wasn't enough any more to simply shoot at them and expect them to run away with their tails between their legs… and what better way to discover more about them than by an examination of their technology.

No, he decided his reasoning was sound and so far he'd only seen a single Wraith. Sooner of later, Colonel Sheppard was going to realise that he was missing, and send someone looking for them. Rescue would come.

As the native soldiers – Wraith worshippers, he reminded himself – led him into a large, oval shaped chamber, in the centre of which was a raised dais, he saw Varnerin. He gasped.

"Reuben, what are you doing here?" he asked, his surprise at seeing the man rapidly becoming dismay.

Varnerin chuckled, and again Woolsey couldn't help but question whether such a sound came naturally from his lips or not.

"The same as you, Richard, I wandered around where I shouldn't have, and happened upon some Wraith." he answered.

"Some?"

"Two, as a matter of fact," Varnerin confirmed, "and while I managed to prevent the female from feedi—"

"Female?" Woolsey's heart sank even further, "there's a queen here?"

"I'd hardly call her a queen. Not yet anywa—"

Woolsey winced as Varnerin's assessment of the queen was interrupted by the fist that kidney-punched him hard enough to drive him to his knees. He didn't have time to recover his breath before Atterna Rowf wrapped a slender cord around his neck and twisted it hard.

"You will not speak disrespectfully of our Queen," she growled angrily into his face.

"Atterna," Woolsey jumped as the Wraith's voice interrupted Rowf's angry retributive act against Varnerin. "Release him. The Queen wishes him to live long enough that she may hear what it is he has to say."

Varnerin gasped for breath as the woman yanked the cord from around his neck, and fell forward to support himself on his hands. In spite of himself, Woolsey moved to help him to rise. No one stopped him.

As he leaned down he hissed urgently, "Please tell me you didn't try and make some kind of a deal with these… Wraith."

"I had to say something," Varnerin answered, leaning on Woolsey as he climbed to his feet. "She was about to feed on me."

Something about the tone in Varnerin's voice made Woolsey pause in answering, as if he wasn't quite saying all that he meant. With a shiver he let go of the man's arm as soon as the psychologist was upright and went to turn away, only to find himself face to face with the towering figure of the Wraith.

"You are the leader of the humans of Atlantis," he said, and while there was a certain question in the gaze with which the Wraith fixed him, the words were not entirely a query in themselves. Before he could answer, the Wraith continued, "You will contact your people and order them to my ship."

Woolsey blinked as the pale, greenish hand held something out in his direction. It took him a moment to realise that it was his radio. He made no move to reach for it, no matter how much he might have wanted to call for help.

"I will do no such thing," he answered and then gasped, almost a small cry as the Wraith's hand shot forward and grabbed him by the front of his jacket to pull him closer. Overbalanced he clutched at the Wraith's wrist.

"You will do as I have instructed," the Wraith said, idly opening and closing his feeding hand in front of Woolsey's face, "or the next few hours will be… interesting."

**

Vega did not enjoy being on the bridge, not alone. Not that she was alone, surrounded by Wraith and with Hanna standing at her side, moon-eyed over both the Queen and the Hive Commander, but she felt alone. She felt naked and vulnerable.

"He has been gone too long. We should have received his report by now," the Hive Commander grumbled, glancing over at the Queen.

"Concern, my Commander," the Queen purred.

Vega tensed as the Commander frowned before he began to speak.

"My Queen, I must confess, I do not trust him to act for the good of our Hive," the Hive Commander said. "It is my opinion that he only informed you of the transmission he received concerning the message from the Lanteans because I already knew and would have told you myself, if he had not."

"Are you telling me you believe he would betray this Hive," the Queen snapped, "betray _me_, after all I have provided for him?"

Vega felt suddenly sick to her stomach. Her heart pounded in her chest and she was certain that a sheen of nervous perspiration must have appeared across her brow. She knew, with the Hive Commander's glance in her direction, that the next words he would speak would be to denounce the two of them for what they had, or rather _had not_ done.

Before she knew what she was doing, she had shuffled forward a half step, drawing a baleful stare from the Elder Queen.

"Did you wish to speak, Handmaiden?" she hissed.

"No, my Queen, only—" she barely whispered the words, but was saved from having to compound the lie by the announcement of one of the other Wraith at the controls.

"We are receiving an incoming transmission."

Vega was sure her sigh of relief was audible as the viewing screen activated to show Todd's face, staring calmly back at them, taking them all in.

"_My Queen_," he said with a respectful bow of his head.

"What have you discovered?" she snapped, and Vega's relief began to evaporate.

"Colonel Sheppard and his people arrived here to forge a trade agreement with the humans here and… unfortunately for them, accidentally discovered one of our neural generators and activated it." Todd tilted his head and his expression said that it was of no moment to him. "It has left them somewhat… scattered and the one person that may have been able to safely deactivate the device is incapacitated himself."

He had to be talking about Doctor McKay and Vega thought, bitterly, that it was typical of the scientist to have gotten himself into a whole load of hot water. It had been because of saving him that she now found herself, through a long chain of events, in the position she was.

"What do they expect you to do?" the Queen asked, a thought almost audible in her words.

"Without their scientist to make their technology compatible with ours so that they may operate the generator, they need me to deactivate the device, allowing them to return to normality." Todd answered.

"And this will restore you to their… good graces?" the Queen asked.

"Somewhat," Todd answered. His face and more particularly his eyes showed that there was more that he had yet to say. Vega knew the expression, she had been on the receiving end of it herself, and very recently. He glanced in her direction, and she was sure he could see into her as the thoughts, the memory – and the strong emotions they kindled came to her unbidden…

_"…But first… I would like your help… if you are willing?"_

_She blinked at him, curious, but somewhat worried at the same time. He had never asked for her help before. In fact he had openly refused it on a number of occasions. "I… yes of course, I…"_

_Before moving, he took down a bottle that contained a liquid of a bright red colour and set it on the workbench beside her. She picked up the bottle, as he must have known she would, looked at it, and removed the stopper to cautiously sniff the contents._

_He chuckled softly, and began walking toward the door at the far side of his laboratory. "Join me when you are ready," he said._

_She glanced at him, frowning slightly at the tone of command in his voice, and saw him reaching to pull off the vest. Her belly flipped, and she gasped softly at the flash of pale flesh she caught just before he disappeared out of sight._

She caught the moan before she audibly made the sound, swallowing it down as a small gasp instead, but the whole of her body flushed with the memory of realising that he was heading to bathe, and that he wanted her assistance. Her hands trembled as they had then, and she could barely breathe when she felt the Queen glance her way, following the direction of Todd's gaze from out of the view screen.

The Queen's mind pressed hers; the Queen's emotions surrounded hers even as Todd began to speak again.

"Even though this world is outside of the feeding grounds of any Hive, I believe that the ancestors of the humans here were once loyal to a Hive and that it may still lie here, somewhere, undisturbed. I have yet to investigate, but—"

Under the press of the Queen's mind, Vega lost awareness of the words Todd was speaking, only the sound of his voice remained, heard from another time…

_She hovered at the doorway of the bathing chamber, peering through the rising steam. She could hear the movement of the water; see the vague outline of his shape, lounging in the sunken tub._

_"You may come inside," he said, mild amusement in his low voice. "I give you my word, I will not… bite."_

_The tone in his voice left all of her aching, full of curiosity that lingered within the desire his presence kindled. Her breathing caught in her chest, and for a moment she could not move._

The Queen came closer, turning to watch the view screen from behind her, and Vega couldn't help but shiver as she raised her hand to run the back of her knuckles down over her cheek. Drawing the memory still further…

_With each step she took the steam parted, drawing her in as surely as if he had taken her hand and led her forward, until she reached the side of the tub, and lowered herself to kneel beside his hand, on the soft cloth he had left there. He looked up at her then, and smiled._

_"Forgive me, if this is presumptuous—" he started._

_"No, no… I don't mind, I…" she trailed off, and couldn't help running her eyes over him, over the breadth of his shoulders, his pale skin over a smooth, muscled chest… naturally undisturbed by either nipples, or by the scars of battle. His body tapered to a narrow waist, past well-defined muscles._

_She couldn't hold back the sharp intake of breath at the burning in her body, the inner voice that cried out for her to touch. She swallowed hard, schooling herself to bring her eyes up out of the water to find his, hooded and watching her, and there remained the hint of wildness that had been present on his return from the Queen._

_"Ah, my little Alicia," he purred… and she all but came apart._

"—in any event I see no harm in assisting Sheppard and his men, should that be your wish?"

The Queen released her from her mental grasp, and Vega staggered and took in a huge breath. She was still aware that Todd was speaking through the view screen, but still unsure of his words. She was dizzy, disoriented, and uncertain of what had just occurred. All she knew, all she could feel, was that her knees shook like jello beneath her, and at her centre she felt the swelling of her desire.

"Assist them," the Queen ordered, "but not too quickly. I think I wish to see these Lanteans for myself."

"As you desire, my Queen," Todd said, and bowed his head before cutting the link.

Vega swallowed hard as her awareness returned to the present; to the fact that the Queen intended to take the Hive to the planet; to the danger that posed to Colonel Sheppard and the others.

"The course is set, my Queen," the Hive Commander said softly, activating the view screen again to show the planet to which they would travel.

The Queen nodded, and the hum of the ship beneath her feet changed slightly as the engines fired and the Hive began to move. The Queen, it seemed, was not interested in waiting on the bridge for the duration of the journey. She called Vega to her side, Hanna too, and began to sweep so quickly to the door that Vega almost tripped over herself to keep up.

As the Queen's steps slowed, Vega felt the menace from the Hive Commander following in their wake. It should not have surprised her, though it did, that the Queen halted by the door and addressed him without turning back.

"Commander?" she said with a soft menace to match the feeling that surrounded them.

"My Queen?"

"Be not so quick to judge _my_ scientist," The Queen said and Vega shivered. She did not miss the possessive emphasis. "He works for the good of all Wraith, but especially for the good of this Hive."

**

At the sound of P90 fire, Sheppard came running out of the entrance to the tunnels that led to the chamber where they'd found the Wraith device. Though his own weapon was held at the ready, as soon as he saw the single Wraith scout ship coming in to land on the edge of the village he called out a halt to the over-enthusiastic marines.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, allowing his weapon to hang from the sling around his shoulders, and spreading his hands to the side as the canopy cleared, and he could see, as he suspected he would, the unsmiling visage of his Wraith contact, Todd.

He frowned. More than unsmiling, he thought Todd looked concerned, perhaps even annoyed.

"Colonel Sheppard." Todd stepped out of his scout ship, completely ignoring the weapons pointed in his direction. "I thought I had impressed on you the need for all due expedition in rescuing your people."

"And _I_ thought you said you'd deactivate the device," Sheppard countered, irritated that the Wraith thought he could dictate any course of action.

Todd spread his hands to his sides.

"I told you I had first to return to my ship." he said. "I had assumed, after all, that you would not wish for the arrival of further Wraith to hamper your progress."

"What are you talking about," Sheppard hissed, and when Todd reached out a hand toward his shoulder, he stepped back. Around him the marines all raised their weapons again, as did the two Wraith warriors that had accompanied Todd.

"Easy," Sheppard gestured to his men to lower the guns. They did so, slowly, and as Todd tilted his head slightly, Sheppard saw that the Wraith warriors did likewise.

"To answer you, Sheppard," Todd said, "I returned to my ship in order that I might give my report to the Quee—"

Instinct won out over reason, and before he could halt his movements, Sheppard raised his sidearm, cradling one hand in the other to point it in the treacherous Wraith's face.

"You son-of-a-bitch, I should—"

Faster than even Sheppard's own sharp reflexes could counter, Todd lashed out, caught the weapon in his hand and pulled it from his grasp. As Sheppard watched in astonishment, the Wraith thumbed the release for the clip and quickly ejected the round from the chamber, before turning the weapon again and offering it back to him.

"Most of us are, John Sheppard, most of us are," he sighed.

Sheppard smiled coldly. "More Wraith humour?" he queried.

"Indeed," Todd said.

"Where the _hell_ did you learn to do that?" Sheppard asked, gesturing with his dismantled sidearm.

"Careful observation and a sharp mind," Todd answered. "We don't have time for this. I contacted the Queen in an attempt to prevent her bringing the Hive."

"Attempt?" Sheppard said. "I take it you weren't successful."

"Regrettably, she decided that she was… interested in overseeing matters personally," Todd admitted.

"Crap!" Sheppard said under his breath, quite vehemently.

"So you see why I counsel haste," Todd purred.

"Yeah," Sheppard told him, "one problem."

Todd cocked his head, inviting further explanation.

"You said they'd be at the Hive, but," Sheppard sighed and admitted, "we can't find it on our sensors."

"Hardly surprising," Todd said, "since it is no doubt dormant after so long."

"Then how are we supposed to—" Sheppard stopped as, growling slightly, Todd approached one of the startled inhabitants of the settlement. "What the hell are you—?"

Todd reached out and grasped the unfortunate man by the neck, even as he tried to back away. Sheppard's heart both sank and filled with an angry _I told you so_ at the man's response.

"Have we angered you, Lor—?" he yelped.

"You will show this man the location of the Hive," Todd ordered.

"Of course, I—"

Todd all but threw the man in Sheppard's direction, then turned and said fiercely, almost snarling, "Now quickly, Sheppard. If she arrives before you have your men, I cannot help you any more."

Sheppard nodded, understanding, and to a degree supporting what Todd meant. It would do the Atlantis Expedition little good if Todd fell foul of his own people and ended up getting killed. He was a useful resource – an inside man, or Wraith as was the case.

"Just make sure you shut down that machine," he said and without waiting for Todd to reply, he gestured to the marines to move out, pushing the native onwards to lead the way.

**

_"A little sport, before we feed on your little pet," the Queen said from nearby. "Good…"_

_"Ronon," Keller cried out to him, "Just go! Get out of here!"_

_Growling his steps quickened, until he ran full on at the Wraith, brandishing his chair-leg weapon as he did._

_The Wraith blinked in momentary surprise, as though the last thing he expected was to see the Human charging him. It gave Ronon the moment's advantage that he needed. With all the strength he could muster, Ronon thrust forward with the broken end of the makeshift weapon._

_The jagged, sharp edges sliced through the leather and into the Wraith flesh beneath. Ronon pushed harder and did not let go. The Wraith let out a roar of pain before, in defiance of Ronon, grasping the rod and dragging himself closer to the Satedan along its length._

_Ronon lashed out, a roundhouse that sent the Wraith reeling backwards to fall against a control panel which exploded in a shower of sparks as the end of the metal the Wraith had forced through his own body penetrated into the circuits. The Wraith let out another roar, and then toppled sideways._

_Ronon was not foolish enough to believe that his easy victory over the first of the Wraith would be repeated with the others, particularly not as one of those was a queen._

_She snarled and came at him, even as Keller cried out in panic._

_"Ronon!"_

_In wild desperation, he blocked the queen's raking blow with his forearm, even as he turned his head in the doctor's direction. The impact was jarring and sent a wave of deep, biting aches into the wound in his belly._

_Keller was pinned, struggling against the balcony railing as the Wraith bent her backwards against it. She clawed at his feeding hand, attempting, with growing futility, to keep it away from her chest._

_"No!" Ronon growled and lowering his shoulder, tried to barge his way past the queen. He suffered a painful clawing to his shoulder and his back. He punched wildly, his fists connecting with the queen's side in an increasingly more frantic rhythm._

_Suddenly, Keller's weakened struggles gave way to the most terrible of screams._

_Ronon's blood froze._

_"Jennifer!" he cried out, and with renewed determination and strength, he lashed out at the queen, pushing her away. As she moved to make a new attack, he ducked under her reaching hand, before spinning away. New pain washed over him as he wrenched his gut, and he could feel the trickle of blood from beneath his bandages as he all but fell against the Wraith that was feeding on Keller._

_Overbalanced, both the Wraith and the doctor pitched over the balcony to the floor of the Gate Room below._

**

Todd had not moved for many minutes, he simply stood watching, studying the device and the sequence of lights as they wound their way around the device, attempting to ascertain their pattern, to read the truth about the one that used this device. Of course he had left little to chance, and had already sent his second in command to gather what evidence he could concerning the strength and protection that had been provided for the young queen that had been left there.

"What have you discovered," he asked, sensing his second behind him.

"Evidence only of a single Guardian. He keeps her in the caverns below," His sub-commander answered. "There are other human settlements on the other landmasses, but the presence of Wraith only on this one."

Todd considered the news, running it over in his mind quickly – evaluating the usefulness of it all. Finally he nodded.

"Very well, return to the ship and keep it out of range of the planet until after the Elder's Hive has departed. Select a small number of these humans and take them with you. Find out what they know."

"And the Young Queen?" his sub-commander asked.

Todd turned his head sharply, and hissed, "I will deal with the Queen."

The sub-commander bent his head to acknowledge the reprimand. "And when the Elder has departed?" he asked.

Todd growled softly. "This world has remained outside of any Wraith feeding ground for far too long. I think it is long past time the humans here were reminded of the presence of their betters."

"A cull?"

"Naturally."

Todd waited until his sub-commander had turned and left to carry out his orders, and then once more approached the device.

"Now, Sheppard," he said softly, "let us see how much confusion you and your men can provide to… cloud the issue."

Without another thought, he laid his hands on the controls, in communion with the device to activate the reverse of the signal, and then, with a flick of his wrist against an entirely different, hidden switch, set the device to overload. He could not leave evidence for the Queen to discover. She would know immediately, as he had, what the machine revealed.

**

"Jennifer!"

"Easy, Ronon… easy." Doctor Keller pressed a firm but gentle hand against Ronon's shoulder to stop him from moving. "You're safe."

He turned his head to look at her, and she saw terrible confusion in his eyes.

"You…" he said, and his voice sounded gravelly. "The Wraith, he…"

She shook her head. "Colonel Sheppard came back for you; rescued you from the natives here and I've been trying to find a way to wake you ever since. We had to bring the marines back here from Atlantis when they started to get sick there. Whatever you think you experienced…"

Her voice trailed off mid-sentence and she watched his eyes slip past her to take in his surroundings, the frown on his face deepening as though he was fighting to remember.

"I was hit by a stunner," he said at last.

"At least you and the others are still alive," she said firmly, and glanced at the orderlies, who were moving among the wakening marines.

"What happened?" Ronon asked, and since he was more lucid she allowed him to sit up a little more. "How long have I—" He broke off suddenly, and shivered. After another moment, he said, "This is weird."

"What is?" she asked.

"I feel like… feel like I've had almost the exact same conversation with you before," he told her. "Only we were… talking about Teyla."

"Teyla?" Keller asked.

"Yeah, Michael took her. He stabbed me, I—"

"I guess that must have been what you were dreaming," she told him. "All of you were dreaming. There's some kind of Wraith device here that—"

"Wraith," she watched his face darken, and he started to try and sit up again, "here?"

"No," she said, pressing her hand lightly to his shoulder again. "Well yes – but it's only Todd, he—"

"Jennifer, we've got problems," McKay came hurrying into the tent, staring in worry at something on the screen of his computer tablet. "We've got to get you and your medical team out now, we—" he glanced up and his eyes widened. "Ronon, you're awake! You're all awake."

"What's going on, McKay?" Ronon asked, gently pushing her hand off his shoulder and sitting up slowly.

"The Jumper's sensors just detected the massive Wraith Hive moving into orbit. It launched a transport ship, heading for the planet." McKay, for once, came straight to the point.

Ronon snarled and swung his legs around so that he could get to his feet. "Where's Sheppard?" he asked.

"He and Edgecombe's team went to find the dormant Wraith Hive, here on the planet, to rescue Warsh and the others. You see… these people claimed to need aid and in return they were going to show us the Wraith tech their ancestors left them, only there isn't any Wraith tech, there never was any Wraith tech and now Woolsey and War—"

"Get Jennifer and the others to the Gate, and back to Atlantis," Ronon interrupted.

"Where do you think _you're_ going," Jennifer grabbed a hold of Ronon's shoulder before he could get to his feet. "You've just woken up from a significant period of time in an artificially induced altered state. I can't let you go out there. You—"

"Listen, Jennifer," Ronon turned and took her by the shoulders, moving her aside as he climbed to his feet. "It was coming back for me that got them into this mess. It's up to me to get them out."

She sighed as she watched him look over to the small team of marines, and just _knew_ what the next words out of his mouth would be.

"Which of you is with me?"

**

Sheppard pulled their guide back into the cover of the undergrowth as the dark bulk of the Hive came into view through the trees. Anger swelled inside of him and frustration bit deeper still. If Woolsey had listened; hadn't been so hell-bent on examining Wraith technology that he doubted even existed, then they wouldn't be in that position – about to assault a Hive ship, with the threat of a Queen breathing down their necks, and with no idea of what forces waited for them inside.

"Noire, stay with this guy. Make sure he doesn't go anywhere; warn anyone," Sheppard said and as Noire nodded, he added, "Edgecombe, you and your team, you're with me."

It was a cautious advance that they made toward the Hive. Sheppard was uncertain whether it would be Wraith or Human opposition – armed with the stunners – that would meet the assault. As they got closer, though, it became evident that they were not expected as he feared they would be. Their approach, careful as it was, went unchallenged.

The door to the Hive stood open and even inside it was unguarded. Sheppard signalled Edgecombe – _take two men. Search. Maintain radio silence _– he took the remaining marines as back-up of his own.

He couldn't help but shiver as they began to walk along the twisting, organic corridors. He'd been inside abandoned Hives before. It wasn't that which gave him cause to feel as uncomfortable as he suddenly did. He'd always had his friends at his side and keenly felt the absence of Ronon, and Teyla… she would have been a comfort to have beside him.

_Sheppard risked a step forward, tightening his grip on his weapon and aiming a little closer at Michael. It was meant to be menacing._

_"What did you do with Teyla's baby?"_

_"He is safe!" Far from being worried by Sheppard's actions, Michael grew angry. "Which is more than can be said for his mother!"_

_"I swear," Sheppard raised his voice, "if you so much as try and harm one hair on her head, I'll—"_

_"Me?" Michael snarled, as though the suggestion offended him. "She is in far greater danger from you! You do not deserve to have her at your side! You have used her… abused her, just as you did me!"_

_Sheppard ignored the barb, instead demanding accusatorily, "What the hell did you do to her!"_

_"Atlantis was supposed to be a place of safety," Michael growled._

_"Maybe if whatever you did to her hadn't messed with her head," Sheppard spat, and broke off from returning fire to the Wraith, to aim a shot Michael's way._

_"Her condition warrants torment? Abuse?" Michael snorted and, following a fierce barrage of fire from the Wraith, rolled into the open, coming to one knee to release a torrent of deadly fire their way. Several Wraith fell under his angry onslaught, before he launched himself to his feet again and sprinted for new cover. "And to think, you consider yourselves better than me… you are creatures… no better than animals!"_

_"Sticks and stones!" Sheppard yelled back, though in truth the words cut deeply. He hated the hurt he knew Teyla was suffering, blamed himself for it. He hated himself for not protecting her, from Michael, from Woolsey and Hollick… and sometimes even from herself._

"Sticks and stones," he whispered.

"Colonel?" one of the men beside him queried.

He shook his head, "Nothing, I—"

His words died on his lips as, from a side corridor, a blast of energy from a stunner took him down. The last thing he heard was the rattle of P90 fire as the two marines at his side returned fire.

**

"I didn't think you were ever going to wake," Varnerin said sourly as Woolsey opened his eyes. He was lying on the ground in what seemed to him to be a cell, though the bars looked more like a spider's web than real bars. "Thought maybe he'd done more damage than I imagined; broke your neck or something."

His head ached and he felt sick to his stomach. "What happened?" he answered the professor.

"He was about to feed on you when the chamber started to… come to life," Varnerin answered.

"Come to life?" Woolsey frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Lights came on, all kind of… sickly and swirling in greens and reds, but they came on and there was a strange hum that started up. That was when the ugly bastard dropped you and split."

Woolsey couldn't help but chuckle. The words, coming from the professor's usually plumy mouth, seemed more than a little incongruous with his character. Varnerin shot him a withering look, and he sobered quickly.

"So what happened?"

"Wraith."

"What do you mean, _Wraith?_"

"I mean, more Wraith arrived. They didn't wait to find out what was going on, they just stunned us," Varnerin said.

"Another Wraith faction, do you think?" Woolsey asked.

"How the devil should _I_ know?" Varnerin snapped. "More importantly: how the hell do we get out of here?"

"You don't."

_=don't= =don't= =don't=_

**

Ronon and the others watched from the cover of nearby bushes as several warriors came past the sentries at the entrance to the Hive and began to spread out into the surrounding woodland.

"It's too heavily guarded," one of the marines hissed, "How the hell are we going to get inside?"

Ronon smiled grimly and said, "Weapon's port."

"What?" the marine asked, "How?"

Ronon pulled his head back further inside the undergrowth, and turned to face the marine. "The Wraith in the woods will follow a specific pattern, they always do. All we have to do is make it to the bottom of one of the tubules and, climb inside."

"Is that even possible?" the man asked, leaning forward from the bush to search the side of the Hive ship with his binoculars.

"Oh yeah," Ronon told him softly, "it's possible."

"How do you—?"

"Sateda," he answered, and turned again to look out from the greenery. He slapped the marine's arm. "Come on… now's our chance. We have to get beneath the Hive before the sentries come back around."

Quickly, keeping as low to the ground as he could and moving as quietly as possible, he led the way to the shadows at the foot of the weapon's port, and quickly pulled himself up inside. He had to move up fast, to let the men get in behind him before the Wraith sentries could return and find them, and bracing his legs against either side of the tubule, he began the long and difficult climb.

**

Sheppard moaned as he started to come round, and felt himself hauled upright before he could open his eyes.

"Welcome back, Colonel," a voice beside him said quietly, and someone pressed a canteen of water into his hand.

"Thanks," he whispered, matching the man's tone. He took a sip of the water. It was warm, and slightly stale, but at least it banished the dryness that seemed to have taken root in every single one of his taste buds. "I guess that means that Todd got the device deactivated."

"I guess so, sir," the man said. "It was a small group of the locals. We took 'em out and then found a place to hole up until you came around. I think something's happened though."

"What do you mean?" Sheppard asked, opening his eyes and handing back the canteen. He frowned as soon as he did. Where once the ship had been lifeless, a softly pulsing light now flowed through the walls, and the creeping mist had begun to build up at ground level.

"I see," he said. "My money's on that queen that Todd mentioned."

"I'd have to agree with you, sir," the marine said. "So what now?"

"You still have that C4 on you?" Sheppard asked. The marine nodded. "Then I think I have an idea."

**

"Soon as I cut this membrane," Ronon said urgently, "we have about five seconds to make it through the gash into the vent on the other side."

"What happens if we don't make it," one of the marines asked, he sounded terrified, but Ronon wasn't about to coddle the man. He nodded toward the energy generator at the nearby head of the tubule.

"That thing powers up, and you get fried," he said graphically.

"Nice," another of the men said, drawing out the word. "And you couldn't have mentioned this before, like… when we were back down there?"

Ronon gave him a fierce grin in answer.

"Ready?" he asked a moment later, looking at each of the men in turn. Each of them nodded, some more nervously than others. "Remember, this stuff will heal itself fast. Just push through and keep moving, don't stop. When you get through, turn and pull the men still behind you. Clear?"

Again they nodded, and Ronon took a deep breath before pulling out his knife. He would have to make a larger incision than he had made when they raided the ship on Sateda, and diagonal to allow them all to get through. With another breath he reached out and savagely thrust his knife through the rubbery side of the tubule, pulling and sawing until he had a long enough gash.

"Go!" he hissed, and counting under his breath he continued to pull the knife through the tough, leathery hide of the ship, lengthening the gash even as the injured ship began to heal itself. Around him, as he cut and counted, Ronon could feel the almost electric tingle of the approaching energy. Under his breath he chanted, "Three, two…"

He grabbed a hesitant marine by the back of the vest he wore and all but threw the both of them through the rapidly closing gap in the wall, turning as he dove through to grasp the man by the wrist and pull, hard.

The two of them tumbled to the floor of the vent, barely a breath away from incineration.

**

His body ached, his gut churned and his mind was still reeling, a hornet's nest of confusion. Sound and images, like some giant, psychedelic nightmare, wrapped around him, filling him with fear and doubt; hate and desire burning in him at the same time.

"No, no more," he cried, though the sound was little more than a gasp to his own ears.

Still she came at him, demanding – denying, threatening – consoling. Nothing made sense and he could barely remember who he was, why he was there or even what she wanted of him… or what he could possibly give.

**

"Captain!" Edgecombe hissed through the spiral bars of the holding cell.

"Lieutenant," Warsh smiled at Edgecombe. "How the hell did you get here?"

"Colonel Sheppard," Edgecombe whispered. "We split up. Two teams of three – quicker to find you. There are Wraith on the way."

"Wraith?" Warsh asked, then sighed, "Why am I not surprised?"

"How do we get you out of here?"

Warsh shrugged and answered apologetically, "We were stunned before we reached the woods. I guess the natives must have… dragged us inside."

"What about Woolsey?"

Again, Warsh shrugged. "Last I saw he was still standing. He—"

One of Lieutenant Edgecombe's three man team came skidding back around the corner of the corridor from where he'd been on watch.

"Wraith!" he hissed.

Warsh watched as Edgecombe raised his P90 into a firing position.

"Then I guess the time for stealth is over with," Edgecombe said grimly, and as the two Wraith warriors turned the corner, he and his men opened fire on the unsuspecting Wraith.

**

"Fire in the hole!" Sheppard cried as he rolled around behind the cover afforded by the opening of the door. He and the others covered their ears as the C4 ignited, and took the main power generator of the Hive ship skyward with it.

Smoke billowed out of the doorway, like a rolling sea mist and all around him lights began to flicker and die.

"Guess they know we're here now, sir," one of his men said, grinning.

"Guess they do at that," Sheppard agreed. "Come on – this way."

Hurrying away from the twisted wreck of the power room behind them, Sheppard led the charge inward toward the centre of the Hive. If there was a queen coming, that would likely be where she would go, and if she was there, then she would probably have her prisoners brought before her, just like all the other arrogant queens before her.

Realising the truth of the words just spoken, Sheppard saw no further need for radio silence to maintain the surprise of the rescue attempt. Now they needed to coordinate their attack, hitting the Queen's Chamber from all sides at once. Quickly he keyed his mic.

"Edgecombe, this is Sheppard, respond."

"_Go ahead, sir_," Edgecombe said calmly.

"What's your status?" he asked.

"_We have Warsh and his team,_" Edgecombe said, the smile evident in his voice. _"We ran into a small group of Wraith warriors. Nothing we couldn't handle, but there are more of them around. They turned around when the explosion just hit. Probably heading your way._"

"Understood," Sheppard said seriously. "Head for the centre of the ship; the Queen's Chamber. We're going to need to all hit it at the same time."

"_Affirmative, sir,_" Edgecombe said. "_We'll be there_."

Sheppard smiled. It was a grim smile, but it was a smile none the less as he began to believe that they might just pull off the rescue after all – queen or no queen. The smile was wiped from his face a moment later as the wall beside him exploded under fire from a Wraith blaster. He barely had time to raise his weapon and return fire, before another section of the wall met the same fate.

**

The ship trembled under the force of an explosion from somewhere deep within and Ronon smiled as he flattened himself against the wall of a small alcove in the corridor outside of the circular hall that was the Queen's Chamber, where he and his small team could await the arrival of the others, promised in the radio transmission.

From his vantage point he saw the Queen make a sudden grab for the arm of the throne as the ship lurched, and heard, though could not see, someone fall to the floor of the chamber.

Recovering her composure quickly, the Queen gestured with a wordless growl, and some of the many Wraith warriors he could make out, that formed a standing guard around the chamber, turned and moved off, presumably to go and investigate.

A slight movement to his right caught his eye, and he saw several shapes creeping along in the shadows of one of the corridors. He smiled again as he recognised Lieutenant Edgecombe's worried face among the leaders of the small band of marines. He began to believe they had a chance, even _with_ the presence of the Queen.

It wasn't long before the rattle of P90 fire began to echo along the halls, punctuated by the ever diminishing trill of Wraith stunners.

"Do not believe your friends will prevail," the Queen hissed, addressing one of the figures Ronon could not see. Slowly she descended the steps, a true predator in her slow, measured movements. Two commanders flanked her protectively, and one of them was probably the biggest Wraith Ronon had seen in many a year.

For a moment they passed beyond his line of sight, and a dreadful, agonised moan came from a figure he could not see, presumably the same one as had fallen. It was all Ronon could stand.

Pulling his blaster from its holster and with a terrible growl of his own, he launched himself toward the Queen's Chamber.

One of the commanders turned at the sound and fired blindly in Ronon's direction. The blast caught Ronon's shoulder, but didn't slow him. He turned his own weapon the commander's way and fired. The Wraith crumpled, a smoking hole in the middle of his chest.

It was only then, as the remaining Wraith turned his way, as he began to feel the unwelcome, crushing press of a cruel mind against his own, that he realised the recklessness his anger had kindled, and the peril he was in as a result. Before the presence of the Queen's consciousness could hamper his movements any more than it already had, he made a sliding dive towards the space behind the raised dais. As he did, from the doorways around the chamber, P90 fire erupted as the marines from his own, and Edgecombe's, teams joined him in the assault on the Wraith.

**

Hurrying towards the very welcome, high pitched sound of Ronon's gun, Sheppard skidded to a halt just inside the Queen's Chamber. He barely got his weapon up in time to open fire on a Wraith warrior that came charging at him, and forced the Wraith backwards toward the centre of the chamber.

He sensed movement all around him, and as the Wraith finally fell, he caught sight of it. It didn't take him long to realise what was happening – they were moving to try and protect their leader.

"The Queen!" he yelled, swinging his own weapon to bear against the tall Wraith female.

A second later he was forced to duck aside and raise his weapon sideways to defend against a vicious overhand strike from a huge Wraith commander, who quite deliberately put himself between Sheppard and the Queen. The commander even took the couple of rounds that Sheppard managed to get off in her direction.

The force of the Wraith's blow jarred Sheppard's wrists and arms painfully, and he staggered backwards. Still the injured Wraith came at him, evidently taking great exception to Sheppard's attack on his Queen.

Sheppard tried to raise the P90 once more to a firing position, but before he had a chance, an explosion, larger than the one he had caused in destroying the power generator, rocked the ship, sending him sprawling to the deck.

"_Sheppard, this is McKay_."

"McKay," he answered and he had to roll aside as the Wraith commander, snatching a staff-stunner from one of the few Wraith warriors not surrounding the retreating Queen, stabbed the weapon toward his chest. "What the hell is going on?"

"_I'm in a cloaked Jumper outside the rear Dart Bay doors._" McKay told him, a note of urgency in his voice. Sheppard had to roll again to avoid another stab from the Wraith commander.

"That's real nice, Rodney," he grunted as he hooked his legs around the Wraith's and in a scissor-like motion attempted to bring him down. "But I'm kinda busy right now."

"_No, no, no, you don't understand,_" Rodney continued, the same note of panic in his voice.

Sheppard abandoned his attempt to topple the giant Wraith. Instead he rolled aside enough to get his hand to his sidearm, and even as the Wraith came after him, raised his weapon and took a shot at his leg. Ironically he found himself almost right beside one of the stricken men he'd come to rescue, though Woolsey was completely unresponsive.

The Wraith fell to one knee, but undeterred, attempted to turn the staff-stunner in his hand, meaning to take a shot, but the length of the staff, and his proximity to the ground made it virtually impossible.

Sheppard took the opportunity to find his own feet, and started to bring his P90 to bear on the struggling Wraith. "Rodney?" he asked as he did.

"_As soon as he discovered what had happened, as ranking military officer still on Atlantis, Major Hollick ordered a full complement of Jumpers in to attack the Hive – take it out._" McKay finally came to the point, "_I estimate you have about seven minutes before the entire area is going to be one big smoking hole in the ground._"

"Oh crap!" Sheppard growled and abandoned his attempt to shoot the Wraith, and instead grabbed Woolsey by the back of his jacket and began to haul him away. As he did, into the chaos of the fire-fight between the Wraith and Humans, he yelled, "Fall back! Air strike inbound! Grab Varnerin and fall back!"

Evidently the Wraith he was facing understood the gist of his urgent cries, as he too began to struggle to his feet, abandoning the staff weapon and, dodging as much of the gunfire as he could, hurried toward the wall of faceless warriors that were still protecting the Queen's escape route. As he reached them he turned and fixed Sheppard with a baleful stare.

"This isn't over, Human," he hissed, and his voice seemed to carry even over the sound of the gunfire.

Before Sheppard could answer, Ronon turned from where he was giving covering fire to the retreating marines and growled, "Yeah it is."

His blaster rang out once, and the Wraith Commander went down, toppling the nearby Atterna Rowf along with him.

Act 5

Todd waited patiently while the Queen finished in her earnest communion with her Hive Commander. He could feel her irritation at her Commander's attitude toward her, though it was muted, with what, he could not be sure. Perhaps she realised that he was right, that she _had _put herself in a vulnerable position in visiting the world before they had been certain of its safety. On the other hand, he could not help but wonder which of them had been victorious that day, the Queen's Hive, or Sheppard and the others from Atlantis.

He was drawn from his reverie by the departure of the Hive Commander, who passed him, snarling as he did so.

"They are interesting," the Queen prevented his response, coming slowly closer, surrounding him with her essences the nearer she came, "these Lanteans of yours."

"Hardly mine, my Queen," he answered softly, and gave her a respectful bow. "I merely… maintain contact from time to time. It serves my purpose."

"As it has served mine," she said, her voice a soft purring that came from behind as she circled him, her hand sliding over his back.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly… keeping his head low as she returned to stand in front of him, this time to the other side.

"You have given me a gift today," she purred, and before he could voice his confusion she leaned closer, her cheek almost pressed to his and hissed softly, "One that I shall cherish as much as I am… cherished."

_=cherished= =cherished= =cherished=_

As she pushed her mind upon his, ran the touch of her hand down over the leather of his coat, he knew that, as much as she was rewarding him with her attention, it was also a warning. He would have to tread more carefully.

"Of course, my Queen," he said softly, "ever and always."

_=we shall see= =shall see= =see=_

The words of course were a lie – meant to be a blind, though he doubted they would be a very successful one without evidence to prove them or at the very least a distraction to occupy her fickle mind.

_~I have almost achieved full compatibility and genetic cohesion~_

He opted for the latter, filling his mind with the memory of the image on the computer screen when he analysed the latest blood sample taken from The Renegade.

"How long?" she snapped, and drew away to regard him with a hungry, predatory and needful expression.

"Two, perhaps three more treatments at most," he said with a bit of a shrug. He tried not to let the relief show in his voice or his manner as she moved away.

"And you are certain?" she tilted her head to regard him.

"I have every faith, my Queen," he said, and could not resist adding, "and should it be necessary—"

"He will comply."

_=your procedure will not be necessary= =not be necessary= =necessary=_

"As you wish, my Queen," he said, with another low bow.

"When will you be able to perform the treatments?" she demanded.

"Soon," he told her. "There is the small matter of his refusal to… take care of his needs."

"Then we must continue to take care of them _for_ him," she said, her impatience clear. "If you cannot see to it, I am certain my commander will do so."

"That will not be necessary," he said, and could not help but feel slighted by her words, even though he was aware that such was her intention. "He _will_ receive the treatments."

"Good," she purred, stepping closer once more. "And once he has, it will fall to you—"

"I know my place," he snapped, and then added hastily, "Forgive me, my Queen, I am… weary."

She moved away, turning almost coquettishly and then regarded him over her shoulder as she said, "Then go to your rest. See to you own… needs."

_=needs= =needs= =needs=_

**

Sheppard sighed, taking one more pass over the smoking ruin that had once been the settlement. It had been destroyed by the Wraith, an act of retribution – or warning perhaps – to others that might… He stopped in his train of thought. What had these people done that had so offended the Wraith Queen?

He sighed again. There was too much he didn't know, and he was too damn tired to think about it. Too much had happened in too short a time. Too many ghosts that he needed to let go. Too many failures – he may have saved Ronon today, but what about Ford… Teyla?

_"Hey, we have your address, we can always write."_

He would probably never forget the faint, sad smile on her face as she had answered him.

_"I do not think so. If we meet again, it will be a long time… to allow the hurt to heal. I fear we need that – both of us."_

Did he need that? Did he have a right to need that? She was his friend, yes, but did that give him the right to dictate to her the way _she_ should feel, and think and believe? Hadn't that been the issue all along…?

_"Goodbye, John." she said softly, and walked to where Ronon was waiting for her by the Gate, to escort her back to her people._

…but he still held out the hope that it had not been a goodbye. That one day…

With a final sigh, he turned the Jumper, and headed for the Gate.

**

"Jennifer," Ronon called after her as she began to walk back to the infirmary. He trotted the few steps to catch up to her. "Jennifer, wait up."

She gave him a smile as he reached her side and took her medical kit from her hand to carry it for her. Then she gave him that 'once over' doctor's look.

"I'm fine," he assured her.

"Really?" she asked. He nodded, but she went on, "because some of the others that were affected by that thing have been complaining of having some pretty disturbing experiences in their dreams, and a lot of them are very reluctant to see the Professor."

"Can you blame them?" he asked.

"No, I guess not." She smiled wryly, and led him into the infirmary. "Just… if you had anything that was troubling you, I want you to know that my door is always open. You know that, right?"

"I do and it means a lot to me." He smiled and set down the kit. Then, taking a deep breath, said, "Listen, Jennifer, I—"

"Ronon?" She turned at looked up at him as he broke off.

"Actually, there was something," he confessed. "I wondered… if you're not busy that is… could I buy you a beer?"

"Ronon, I—"

"No strings," he added quickly. "Just…"

He trailed off, the feelings from his dream suddenly hitting him hard. When he looked at Jennifer again, she was looking up at him, a picture of concern. He saw in her the loneliness and self-doubt, the same as he had before, but this time understood it for what it was, in himself as well, the depth of friendship that could be theirs to share if only they could get past the awkwardness of the shadow of a mistake they had almost made.

"Jennifer, listen," he said softly, "I owe you an apology. That day we were trapped in here, if we hadn't gotten interrupted…"

"Ronon, it's okay. I know," she said with a soft smile, "and you don't need to apologise. Either that or I do too. It takes two, you know?"

He smiled, acknowledging her words, but said, "Let me finish. It would have been the wrong thing to do, not because you're not… smart, and funny… and beautiful, you are. You're all those things, but because of that, you remind me too much of Melena and, because of that, it wouldn't be fair to you to start something. Since then though, things have been… kinda…" he shrugged.

"Awkward?" she suggested.

"Yeah," he said awkwardly. "So anyway… I…"

"Listen to me, Ronon," she said, and when she reached for his hand, he didn't draw it away. "You loved Melena… a lot. I could tell that from the first time you talked about her."

"Those kinds of feelings don't go away," he said quietly.

"And nor should they," she said. "The pain should, maybe… over time, but the love, the way you remember her?" She shook her head. "That will always be part of the strength of you – part of what makes you… you."

He nodded, and gave her a smile. "Thank you, Jennifer." he said gently.

She chuckled, "What for? Being a friend?" She moved to draw him into a hug, which he shared without reservation. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Me either," he rumbled. "So… 'bout that beer…"

"Couldn't make mine a light?" she asked, pulling back to look at him with a grin. He frowned confused. She explained, "I'm trying to watch my weight."

"You?" he blinked and drew her back to arms length to look her over. "Nothing wrong with your weight."

"Oh," she pushed him playfully, and he chuckled.

"Come on," he said, draping a companionable arm over her shoulders as they started to leave the infirmary together, "You can have light, dark, heavy… whatever you like."

**

"You have a nerve," Woolsey snapped as Varnerin appeared in his doorway.

"It's standard protocol, Richard," Varnerin said smoothly as he slipped inside and closed the door. "And it's one that you personally approved. All base personnel, after having been involved in off world combat situations, must undergo a psychological evaluation and debriefing."

"So who debriefs you?" Woolsey snapped, still not looking up from his paperwork.

"I can assure you, I'm fine," Varnerin said. "Richard, look at me."

Woolsey did look up then, but not in the way he suspected that Varnerin wanted.

"If it hadn't been for your insistence on going to M7X-415 in the first place, none of this would have happened," he said, "so you'll pardon me if I'm not exactly ready to spill my guts to you right now, Reuben."

"My insistence, Richard," Varnerin said in an almost gentle voice. "I don't think so."

"I know what I know, Professor Varnerin," Woolsey said, "Now kindly close the door on your way out."

Instead, Varnerin pulled a chair up to the other side of his desk. "Let's try this again, Richard," he said in the same, near-gentle voice.

**

Vega leaned against the arch in Todd's private quarters that led from the bedroom to the bathing chamber. She wasn't certain whether she felt more hurt or angry, but neither feeling banished the pulse of almost terrified desire she still felt; muted, but undeniably present as her eyes fixed on the sunken tub and glazed in memory.

_"Ah, my little Alicia," he purred… and she all but came apart when he reached to take hold of one of her hands. His skin was warm, warmer than usual, from the heat of the deep water. She swallowed hard as his fingers seemed to pass a tactile examination over her hand and wrist. "Such small hands to carry such responsibility."_

_"I'm… sensing this isn't exactly to do with me scrubbing your back," she told him, trying to make light of the situation in an attempt to drive back the maddening need he was kindling inside her. It was as though the moisture from his hands raced through her being to swell within her centre, leaving her wet and aching in its wake._

_"If that is something that you wish," he rumbled, "I would not deny you."_

_"Well, I'm here, I—"_

_She swallowed again, imagining the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips, his muscles firm under her touch._

_He raised an eyebrow as though he could tell what she was thinking and she blushed. He reached up to skim his fingertips over the redness of her cheeks and she couldn't help but lean into the touch._

_"What is this?" he asked softly._

_She shook her head. How could she answer when there was still so much uncertainty she felt in what she wanted?_

_He let go of her hands then and moved as though he would stand, but she pressed a touch against his shoulder. When he stilled she moved to kneel on the soft cloth behind him and tipped a small amount of the liquid from the bottle onto her hands._

_Almost hesitantly she began to run first the tips of her fingers, and then the whole of her hands over the broad plains of his shoulders, interrupted only by the raised nubs that defined his spinal column. He growled softly, and her hands shook against the smooth skin, that felt almost scalding to her touch._

_The ache within her blossomed as the touch of her hands sank beneath the waterline, and the strong muscles of his back twitched to life beneath her fingers. She let out a shaky breath as her hands reached his waist and the narrow, twisted fabric cord there, as she crossed that line to massage and explore the firm flesh nearby the base of his spine._

_He let out a long, slow breath, a sub-vocal hiss and let his head fall back. It came to rest against her shoulder, and with an answering sigh of her own, she rested her cheek against his angled temple, as she let her hands once more climb his spine until she could run the fingers of one hand into the tangles of his hair at the base of his skull._

_With the other she crested his shoulder, slowly sliding the softness of her soapy skin over his chest as far as she could reach, drawing from him another rumbling growl, until he trapped her hand beneath his, against the hammering of his heart._

_The flicker of an image, never clear, as if through a fog, began to form in her mind before it was snatched away suddenly, before Todd turned his head beneath the press of her own and raised her wrist to meet the light nip of his teeth against the softness of her flesh._

_She gasped and then moaned as he repeated the gesture. She found herself almost falling into only the awareness of the heat of it, the slight sharpness that burned the length of her, and in sudden fear of where it might lead, she pulled away._

_"What is it that you need me to do?" she whispered, hiding behind the practicality of their situation._

She heard him enter the laboratory; his approach to his private chambers and suddenly the memory of her discomfort at the intrusion of the Queen's mind, searching and seeking amongst her more private feelings and emotions; among her needs threatened to suffocate her.

"Alicia?" His soft query came from directly behind her, just as her angry confusion peaked.

Without a thought she turned and lashed out to slap his face.

He caught her wrist before she could make contact, changing in a moment from the gentle protector she knew him to be, to the harsh, strong and frighteningly exciting Wraith he was.

"No!" He let go of her wrist and grasped her by the shoulders to pull her toward him so quickly that she overbalanced and fell against him. He snarled, "Never raise your hand to me. Anything else I will accept, but _never_—"

"You _used_ me!" Tears came to her eyes as the strangled cry came from her lips. "You knew she'd try and see what was… what I was…"

She pushed at him, hard, and he let go so suddenly that she stumbled backwards and he reached out again to steady her. His angry instinct faded before her tear-blurred vision.

"The Queen does not trust us," he said, his voice rising as though in irritation of her ignorance.

"And so you… did this," she gestured toward the bathtub, "and then made me remember when I looked at you so that she—"

She stopped when he shook his head.

"You accuse me of actions beyond my ability," he told her, his voice low. "I, myself, was the one that remembered as I felt the Queen searching among _my_ memories, my _motives._"

"But—" she started. "I don't understand. I felt her in my mind… pulling at everything I felt. That was private, it—"

She turned and walked away from him, further into the bathing chamber, wrapping her arms around herself. Frustrated tears began to spill onto her cheeks. She felt him follow, and for a moment tensed as he slid his hands down her arms, to slide beneath them and enfold her in his embrace, his hands against her waist.

"No, my little one, you do not," he said softly, gently.

"Then, _please_, Todd," she breathed, leaning back into his arms, craving his warmth as a protection from her confusion, "explain it to me."

"You and I do not share such a bond that would allow me to touch your mind from such a distance as we were from one another," he said softly. "But the Queen, when she reached for my mind, and saw the memory of what we had shared so fresh and strong, in her mistrust she sought to be sure that I was not projecting a lie."

"So you knew," she accused.

"I knew." he admitted almost apologetically, "but I had no way to warn you."

"I don't— I can't—" she stammered, before finally finishing, in a breathy whisper, "It's too much, but I—"

"Look at me, Alicia," he told her softly.

She shook her head, afraid to turn, afraid of what might become of her if she allowed but one moment of madness to overcome the resistance of logic against the press of emotion; to break down the warring of the two inside of her. What the one wanted, the other repelled.

Instead he leaned closer, his face against her cheek, breathing deeply.

"Your fear binds you," he growled softly. "You believe that simply because I am Wraith, I will hurt you."

Her breathing quickened, the words and the tone in his voice filled her with longing, with need; the desire for his touch.

"No," she whispered, pressing back against him, and sliding her hand to cover his she guided his touch lower beneath her own. "Yes… I don't know, I—"

She lost all awareness of anything in the next moment as his touch brushed against the heat that burned at her core, disturbing the soft cloth of her skirt against her. He growled, a needful sound that matched her own soft cry as she clutched his arm.

It wasn't right. She couldn't—

"Our two species are not…" he purred in her ear, cutting off the voice of her fear.

_~mutually exclusive~ ~mutually exclusive~ ~mutually exclusive~_

"But here is not the place," he breathed softly as he unwound himself from around her, holding her only so long as she needed to find her feet once more. "Neither is there the time to give the moment the… attention… you deserve."

She turned and swallowing hard, blinked at him. When she could find her voice, she asked, "What do you mean?"

"There is a… small matter I must attend to." He tilted his head to regard her through hooded eyes, his lips parted, and she watched the rise and fall of his breath as he sought control. "Perhaps… when I return…"

Her whole body clenched tightly in a response she did not have the chance to give verbally, as he turned and left her standing in the bathing chamber, staring after him.

**

Burning… The whole of his flesh was dissolving in the fire of a bitter maelstrom that had taken root inside of him. His dreams were dark and too confused to even grasp the edges of any sense to wrap around them.

He moaned and turned his head first one way and then the other against the pillow as though seeking to escape the weight of disorder that beset him. Perspiration beaded on his forehead and his cheeks, a testament to the cold sweat that had him in its grasp. His breathing, rapid and shallow, reached a sudden crescendo in the cry that tore from his lips as he shot upright, waking from a terror he could neither name, nor remember.

Quickly, he threw back the soaked covers, and turned to put his head into his hands, as the familiar darkness of his quarters, and the bubbling hum of the city of Atlantis wrapped her comfort around him… and when he could stand, he padded to the bathroom to remove the evidence of his night terrors.

**

The Wraith scientist moved so silently that neither the Guardian, nor the Young Queen heard his approach and he deliberately shielded his mind so that neither sensed his presence.

For a time, Todd stood watching in silence as the Wraith Guardian, and the Young Queen remained locked in the desperation of her condition. Finally he spoke.

"I should simply kill you where you stand for your failure, your weakness," he addressed the Guardian, "and put your queen out of her misery."

As soon as he heard the voice out of the darkness, the Guardian turned, striking with the knife toward Todd's face. It was an easy attack for Todd to counter, and he grabbed the Wraith Guardian's wrist, slapping the weapon away with the other hand. Then he twisted the wrist he held and swept the Wraith's supporting leg out from under him with his foot, bringing the weakened commander to his knees before him.

As a signal of his superiority, Todd thrust his feeding hand against the Guardian's chest, and then halting all motion, said, "Instead I offer you a proposal."

_~I offer you a proposal~ ~offer a proposal~ ~proposal~_

"What is it you want?" the Wraith Guardian hissed.

"Surrender yourself to my command." Todd demanded softly.

"Why should I listen to you?" the Guardian growled bitterly, and Todd could tell that he was already considering the benefits of such a proposal. "What could you _possibly_ offer in return for such a gift?"

Todd tilted his head, looking past the Wraith Guardian, to the pale Young Queen sitting on her pauper's, rock carved throne and growled his answer softly into the darkness.

"Deliverance from this _miserable_ existence, a Hive… and life for your Queen."

_fin_


End file.
